Never tell me the odds
by underthefuckinradar
Summary: What happens when Simmons comes back from her undercover stint at Hydra. A tale of confusion, burgeoning feels, overprotectiveness and flustered heroïnes
1. Prologue 1 of 2

This is not part of the plan.

Having sex with Jemma Simmons had not been part of the plan.

Having raptuous sex with Jemma Simmons and then falling asleep in Simmons' bunk, their arms wrapped around each other, sweet nothings whispered into the night had _most definitely_ not been part of the plan. Of _any_ realistic plan, if she's being honest with herself.

But there they are.

She doesn't know how she's still awake, because physical exertion after a lenghty and intense bout of sex is a thing, but sleep is eluding her. Skye reluctantly lifts her head from the pillow to assess the situation... _'assess the situation...spoken like a true Robocop...what have I become_?' she snorts out loud.

Skye sighs, head falling back on her pillow, rubbing a tired hand over her eyes. She's been staring at the brick and pipes ceiling for hours. Might have been minutes, but it feels like hours to her.

The gently snoring lump currently turning her back to her, nestled between the brick wall and her own body is _her_. _'Yup, I'm screwed'_ she thinks. _'In all the good ways, too'_. She rolls her eyes at the double entendre she can conjure so easily in her mind when she's been a blubbering mess around Simmons for weeks. Who knew a tiny Brit would be the one effectively disrupting her ever-impeccable flirt game?

She is ectastic, though still dumbfounded, about this turn of event, there is no doubt about that. She had stopped hoping for this kind of development between them when Bobbi _I'm-a-badass-who-accidentaly-looks-like-an-Amazon-princess_ Morse had shown up at the Playground, on the heel of Jemma's cover being blown to pieces, strutting in the base as if she owned it and still looking humble and, quite frankly, like a very nice person. The hero worship was so clearly etched on Jemma's face that Skye had pretexted she was busy with something DC had assigned her to, just so she could avoid the dread that was settling in the pit of her stomach and wallow in her self-pity in an isolated room, away from the adoring crowd. Hell, even _May_ had been very pleased by Bobbi's addition to the team.

She had been jealous. She can admit to that now, even if at that time, she had chalked up the overprotectiveness and lack of enthusiasm for Bobbi's arrival as a reluctance to see even more changes to their team.

She suddenly turns on her side, her front to Jemma's back, seeking the warmth of the Brit.

_'Funny how actually using Jemma's name and not a variation of Agent Simmons or Simmons sounds both foreign and so familiar to me'. _She can't help it, she smiles. A smile that reeks of contentment. Contentment and barely concealed surprise at how they finally managed to overstep _that_boundary. She tries to be quiet and move stealthily, not wanting to wake Jemma up from sleep, especially not when she knows it's been a while since she's been able to sleep properly. She manages to get herself closer, so that her whole body is almost flush against the smaller woman, leaving only inches between them. _'Thank God for the ninja training I've been doing with May_'.

Once she's settled alongside Jemma, she carefully rearranges the covers that had slipped during the past couple of hours and were now crumpled around Jemma's waist. From her vantage point, and as she tilts her head down Jemma's body, Skye is powerless to stop the oggling she knows she's doing. She's always found her to be incredibly alluring, the soft curve of her hips a perfect companion to the fullness of her breasts. Skye's wandering hand mirrors the direction her thoughts are taking as she finds the tip of her fingers ghosting over the dip of her hip, travelling upwards to finally rest her hand, palm down on the deceitfully firm planes of her stomach.

Skye has to admit that her undercover job had really forced her to maintain a very strict fitness routine, hardening muscles that were, until then, only used to hold bunzen burners. She's grateful Jemma excels at preparation, though, as she managed to escape relatively unscathed from the ordeal. That's why she's taking her time in drinking in the sight of her, laying under her hand, breathing, alive, and thoroughly fucked into oblivion. She knows it's irrational but feeling her engulfed in her arms quiets the restlessness that had taken residence in Skye's mind for the past months.

When she's sure the hand she has on Jemma is not bothering her in her sleep, she finally indulges in what she has spent months fantasizing about. She completely aligns herself to the sleeping beauty_ 'how fitting'_, and ever so slowly, she takes advantage of her being taller to move her head from her pillow to Jemma's, completely invading her space, effectively spooning her, and resting her face just inches from the skin of her neck, inches from the spot where she spent hours earlier biting, licking, and kissing, inches from where she can't refrain herself to drop a gentle kiss any longer. She closes her eyes with a sigh, sending a quick thank to the hair deities who inspired Jemma to chop off her long locks because she can nuzzle her neck effortlessly _'and let's face it, she looks so fuckin hot like this'_. With a final move, she presses her entire body even flusher against Jemma, interweaving their legs under the covers. She's inhaling her scent, uniquely Jemma, she thinks, a comforting mix of her perfume, her lab desinfectant and herself. She can actually smell _herself_ on the woman she's lovingly cradling and it's driving her crazy with lust, happiness and a possessiveness she's not sure she even had in her. She's never been possessive with any of her lovers, but she knows without the shadow of a doubt that she's already there with Simmons.

As she breathes in her hair, nuzzling her long, almost regal neck, then kissing a temple that is adorned by a myriad of freckles she never knew were there and soft deltoïds _'Jemma would be so proud'._ She realises that she likes being a little bit taller, in the moments when they are just the two of them, because when she is next to her, in broad daylight, or in the lab, or at the briefing table, she might be the one wearing boots that boost her verticality but Skye still feels like she is the small of the two and Jemma is the proverbial Sun. She's always been in awe of her intellect, mild manners, empathy and optimistic personality. But when they are like that, pressed together, in the warm cocoon of Jemma's otherwise slighty rough blankets, she can't stop the thought that they fit perfectly. She may be a bit messed up, she may have flaws, but she knows she's somehow a good fit to the genius softly snoring in her arms. _They_ are a good fit.

She can feel her mind succumbing to the stillness of the night and the warmth of their bodies. The slight buzzing noise of the electricity running through the wires and engines powering the Playground, combined with the smell of sex still permeating the room gives the small space an almost ethereal atmosphere, dragging her thoughts back to the previous activities of the night.

A talk that had led to a long-overdue kiss. A talk that had led to them, frantically shedding their clothes off. A talk that had led to the ever mild and polite scientist litterally body-slamming Skye into the door that separated Simmons' safe haven to the rest of the base. As she remembers how forceful and demanding Jemma had been,_'and how into it I have been, for fuck's sake'_, she cannot stifle a giggle, a full tingle travelling her still naked body, because who knew Jemma was such a stud behind closed doors _'I sure didn't'._

She finally relaxes enough to snuggle into Jemma's back, soflty rubbing her nose in between her scapulae, getting drunk on her scent, when she feels the older woman stirring under her arms. She holds her breath, cringing at how her need for her had disrupted the sleep she was craving.

"Skye? what's going on? " A rough voice cuts through the quietude, british accent in full effect. Skye could slap herself.

Skye drops a kiss to the expanse of skin in front of her and whisper quietly "Go back to sleep, love, it's still early"

"Hmmmm... ok".

The scientist readjusts their position in a semi-sleepy haze and drags Skye's arm all the way over her, so that her hand rests just above her heart. In a gesture that speak volumes, especially when she's half-asleep, subconscious and basic instincts taking over, Jemma brings the hand she's holding to her mouth to kiss soft knuckles, one by one. Just like that, she drops it back above her breast, a quiet _"love you, skye. 'night"_ leaving her lips before she falls back into a deep sleep.

Skye smiles. Sleep came within seconds.


	2. Prologue 2 of 2

When the Bus' ramp lowers, Jemma is standing there, a few meters aways, hands wriggling in front of her, angry cuts and hematomae Skye can see all over her face 'So graceful, still' . As if she were on Autopilot, she launches herself into her, wrapping her arms around shoulders that shake slightly upon impact. It's only mid-hug that she realises that instead of the FitzSimmons unit, Jemma is the only one waiting for them to return at the undisclosed location May had just landed the Bus in.

When they let go of each other, the question of Fitz is on her lips, instantly. She's only voicing the concern of the whole team standing at her side, but she dosn't hear them, attention completely focused on the woman in front of her.

"He's alive."

She doesn't know if she's ever received a sharper kick in her guts. Even taking 2 bullets in said guts hurt less than this.

It hurts because she knows who's uttering these words. She knows that Jemma never says something, especially regarding science, without having thoroughly thought about it. The surgical precision in the grammar she chose to comment on Fitz' condition speaks louder than if she had shouted that Fitz was in a bad shape. Skye understands in nanoseconds that the whole game has changed, that their team is irrremediably altered in ways she has yet to witness.

She sees it in the way Jemma is trying to control shoulders she already felt were shaking a few seconds ago, it's also in the way her always nimble yet soothing fingers are trying to scratch her own palms, it's certainly in the way her breath hitched when she spoke, it's plain to see in the way she's trying so valiantly to hold back tears that are teetering over the edge of her eyelids and it's heartbreakingly stark in the way the smile she manages to produce feels so hollow to Skye, when her smiles usually lit up the whole world around her.

Skye has barely 2 seconds to process this and ask for Jemma to explain when they are whisked away by Koenig.

'We have a a lot to talk about, Jemma' she vows silently. She promises herself that she would talk to her friend as soon as humanly possible, especially when said friend looked like she was inches away from imploding.

She would not let her down, she meant too much to her. 'and to the team, obviously', she added as an afterthought.

* * *

Jemma Simmons is everything but stupid.

She has concrete, quantifiable evidence that she is not stupid.

She has countless science patents registered to her name, she achieved bloody worldwide recognition in her line of work before her mid-twenties, and is a certified genius.

But there she is, utterly flummoxed at how she has to proceed.

She is lost, for the first time in a really long time - for the first time since she's joined SHIELD, really-. The reassuring presence of her equally awkward, brilliant and slighty odd partner/best friend/confident at her side, Fitz, no longer a certainty. She wants to scream, she wants to shout to the skies how unfair this is, how he shouldn't be in this position, not him. Not Fitz. Her Fitz. Her person. 'How very Meredith Grey and Cristina Wang' she muses. She knows the odds, she already researched everything the moment the doctors told her Fitz would sustain irreversible damages because of the apoxia his brains experienced. If anything, she's thorough and always prepared, and she takes pride in being the one people can rely on. She knows she shouldn't dive into advanded medical research and dissect Fitz' patient's charts. She knows that. She's tried reasonning with herself that it's really not her field, and despite her undeniable excellence at what she does, she's not an MD, she's tried really hard but she can't stay away, not when an external set of eyes could potentially help the medical team.

From the moment Nick Fury had miraculously managed to appear just when she broke the surface, dragging Leopold with her, she's been relentless in her pursuit of learning everything she could about brain damage, rehabilitation, cures, medical treatments. That's something she's comfortable with. That's something she can turn herself to, because as much as she'd like to be the sunshiny presence she tries to be in face of danger and imminent peril, she just cannot conjure up the mental strenght to be that person at the moment. So she relies on what she knows and truly masters: science and research.

She had made her availability readily known to the medical team, for any input she could give on the biochem side of things, but she knows she's deluding herself into thinking they'll run to her. After all, they are all SHIELD agents, and if they are in charge of the medical wing, if they have been hand-picked to be in that position, who was she to question their work ethics and competence. She could still hear the whispers that had followed hers and Fitz' meteorical rise through the ranks of SHIELD's Sci-Ops : 'They are too young, they are too inexperienced, she must have slept her way through the Academy' and so on... It was a punch in her own guts to realise that she was doing the one thing she had vowed she'd never do. Judging people without giving them a chance to prove themselves.

She will help him, one way or another, even if it's just by her presence at his side, and once he comes out of this coma he's been in for 3 days, she'll be there for him.

* * *

"So, this is where you've been holed up since we arrived here... I can see why... the ambiance is so ...appealing, I mean that beige and taupe colour scheme is really something".

Skye really wants to lighten up the mood, she needs to say something because seeing how Simmons hurts is not something she's prepared to accept without putting up a good fight. She looks around the room. Sterile, baren, SHIELD issued medical room in the medical wing of the Playground. Non descrit colours on the walls, no windows. The only thing she can appreciate is the cosy looking couch on the right side of the room.

She sees the blanket she bought for Jemma a couple of months ago on the back of said couch, when, on a supply run, they had talked about going out one day, for an hypothetical girls night to see the stars. Jemma had reasonned they'd need one good telescope and a really accurate sky map if they wanted to fully appreciate the view nature was offering to anyone willing enough to just sit back and watch. Skye had agreed about the telescope but in her mind, the most important part of the star gazing/booze kind of night was the mandatory blanket on which they could both lie down to relax and just open their eyes to the wonders of the sky above them.

She remembers how Jemma had mercilessly teased her about it, but when Skye had handed her the poorly wrapped parcel, complete with a sorry looking bow, Jemma had jumped into Skye's arms, thanking her profusely and, after quite a lot of fidgeting and blushing, had admitted to the younger woman that this gift, even if Skye had bought it as a kind of inside joke, was very much appreciated. Jemma also pointed out that a blanket with a Hulk on it couldn't be intrinsequely bad, "because after all, Dr Banner is such an inspiration to all of us in the scientific community, I mean his work on gamma rays is positively astounding and...". Skye had cut her off with a hug and a promise that they'd do the star gazing on their next days offs.

Skye is happy to see the blanket is still around and put to good use. After all, it was a reminder of better times, of when things weren't a complete and absolute mess. A time when she could plan a night out with the person who had steadily, unwittingly but undisputaby become her very best friend. The friendship she didn't know she was craving came to life pretty much organically, without them putting any thought into it, never questioning or looking back on how closer they had grown since Skye had joined the Bus. Their bond had grown out of their need for a friend in the same age range, and had taken a life of its own. Missions, nights spent watching movies or trashy tv shows huddled on the Bus' couch, near death experiences only reinforcing the thread that binds them together.

Needless to say the fall of SHIELD threw a wrench in all the plans they'd made.

And now this.

Her eyes, that she had purposely directed towards all the corners of the room but to its center, have nowhere else to go but to the place she wants the less to acknowledge. Breath catches in her throat when she finally lays her eyes on Fitz. She is struck at how he looks so fragile, hooked on all these gently beeping machines that are helping him fight through the trauma, fight for his life. She can feel her eyes prickling, and within seconds, she feels a lone tear escaping her eye. She quickly turns her head to the side, hands on her hips, teeth biting down on her lip, trying to get her bearing, hair obscuring her face, hoping Jemma wouldn't see it, and hoping, somehow childishly, that Fitz wouldn't see her like that too, being so weak when he needed his friends to be strong for him.

"Skye, don't worry. Leopold won't see the tears, and even if he did, he'd tell you that you look like an overly emotional prat". Of course Jemma had seen her shed that tear and of course she knew why she tried to hide.

Skye's eyes finally fully land on her. She looks exhausted, but she's still throwing a smile her way, as if she wanted to convince her that she was just peachy, and damn her if she still doesn't look like the precious english rose that she is. Her hair is in a messy ponytail though, clothes rumpled. She takes a deep breath and walks over, finally getting inside the room, to where Jemma is seated, dragging a chair she finds in the corner of the room to position it next to hers. She splays her hand on Jemma's thigh, squeezing it for comfort. 'Who knew I'd become such an advocate for intimate touches with my best friend.. and to think I used to absolutely recoil at intimacy of any kind...'

"Any changes?" Skye ventures, looking into jemma's eyes.

"None. He's still in a medically induced coma. They..." She watches as Jemma sighs and runs her hands over her face, rubbing her eyes, a clear sign she is frustrated - she has seen that gesture enough in the Lab to recognise it instantly- . "...They don't know when he will wake up, and more importantly, they don't know if... if...". Skye releases the grip she has on her thigh and turn herself fully towards Jemma, engulfing her in her arms. That's when she likes being slightly taller and stronger, because without a second thought, she's pulling the Brit on her lap.

She feels Jemma's shoulders shake.

* * *

When she stumbles on her words, not even able to say out loud that Leopold would never be the same again, she knows she's going to lose it, spectacularly so. When she feels the gentle fingers Skye was rubbing on her thigh reaching her shoulders instead, pulling her whole body in her lap, she doesn't know how to pretend anymore. She doesn't even want to. She doesn't have to, because she knows she's safe with Skye.

She breaks.

Sobs rack her body, making her heave painfully. She feels her whole body shaking, shaking with rage, despair and abject sadness. She is optimistic by nature but rationality is so deeply ingrained in her way of thinking that while she hopes Leopold will be fine, she is all too aware of the consequences of apoxia. Chances are, he will never be the same again. They will never be the same again. The misery she feels comes in never ending waves, and if it weren't for the way Skye was sheltering her within her arms, sheltering her from this cruel reality, she'd lose it completely.

So she cries. She's used to being stoic, pragmatic and reliable when things go unplanned but this is not the kind of unplanned she's good at dealing with. Not when it's Leopold. so she cries until she can't anymore.

When tears finally subside, she stays nestled in the comfort and warmth of Skye's arms. She doesn't want to face the world yet. She moves her head from under the taller woman to the crook of her neck. She takes note of how well they fit, and she likes that Skye is there, holding her as if it were a complete normal occurence when Jemma can count on one hand how many times that happened. She inhales slowly, trying to get her heart rate's back to a semblance of normalcy but she finds that being near Skye, being able to breath in her scent - 'a sweet mixture of generic perfume and somethig fruity' - is oddly counter productive to getting back to a normal heart rate. 'That is weird...and I'm so tired' she chides herself for being so analytical when she should just be grateful Skye is holding her.

After what feels like hours, she is aware of fingers untying her ponytail, and then she shudders at the fingers surfing through her locks, unwavering but so careful. A shiver travel the whole body. She is such a sucker for having her hair played with.

"Are you feeling better, babe?" She is startled by the rough quality of Skye's voice. Then she grins, unwittingly, because she hears the tease, and she knows instantly what she's doing.

"Skye, Goodness gracious, I hate that nickame, and you know it. Babe ? what am I ? a cute piglet?" She tries to sound indignant but fails.

"Whaaaat? what's wrong with babe? it's affectionate and let's be honest, you do have a pretty pink complexion and you are as cute as the piglet in the movie". She tilts her head up, to look into Skye's laughing eyes, disapproving glare in place.

"God, you are so bad, I'm absolutely revoking our friendship this instant. It's not negociable, let me go, you prat." She wriggles on Skye's laps, but really doesn't put much effort into it.

"You know you want me to stay where I am, I mean, I know all about your hair fetish...babe." Skye husks the last part and slighty pulls on her hair. Jemma knows when she's beat, and when Skye plays with her hair like that, she won't move a milimeter from where she is, that's absolutely correct. She just can't not have the last word.

"Ugh, you are such a delinquant. You're lucky because one, I love you and two, forging a brand new frienship is just too much work for my lazy arse now, I'm good with Leopold and you." She tries to infuse some fun in her words, but her heart skips a bit when she says that she loves Skye. She really does, though, and she's forever grateful that little smartass broke into SHIELD's system.

"You have never been lazy a day in your life, don't pretend you're not liking this, my little english muffin" She's shaking with laughter, and seconds after, not before Skye drops a sweet kiss on her hair, she's being carefully repositionned on her chair. She takes a look at Leopold, pats his hands and stands up, offering her hand to Skye.

"I don't know about you, but I'm dead on my feet, and I need to sleep. You're coming? I'm sure Leopold wouldn't begrudge us some down time". She watches as Skyes stands up, and takes her hand, intertwining their fingers. Suddenly the taller woman squeezes, forcing her to looks into her eyes.

"You know, Jemma, I think I'll never get over the fact that you still insist on calling Fitz 'Leopold'." She frowns, looking down at their joined hands then back up to her mirth-filled eyes.

"You do realise that it's his name, right? Also, I only call him Leopold when it's just the two of us or you. God knows I wouldn't want to embarass him outside of our little unit, he's a bit of a sensitive git."

"When he wakes up and remembers everything that was said in this room, like they do in the movies and because it's a thing, let it be heard that Jemma here is the git throwing her best friend under the bus. Leopold will be appaled.". Jemma scowls at the last part of Skye's sentence, heavily accented. 'Still terrible' . She tugs on Skye's hand and they finally exit the room

"You are so ridiculous and please no more english accent, for the Queen's sake."

"You love it, though".

"I do."she nods.

* * *

They both fall into a routine, the next few days, when Fitz is in his coma. They'd both do their SHIELD work during the day, and after dinner, Jemma would come to her bunk, quiet rasp on the door, alerting Skye of her presence. That was the signal for them to go see Fitz in his room, to keep him company, even if he's not awake. She's all too aware that Simmons is taking this the hardest, and it's not uncommon to see her staring mindlessly at the glass pannels between the new lab and the corridors, as if she were waiting for Fitz to miraculously appear.

During these quiet times at Fitz's bedside, they would sit next to each other, Jemma positioning her head on her shoulder, which was the universal code in Jemma Simmons language for 'Please play with my hair'. So she would, obviously. The couple of hours they spend there for 8 days are filled with stories of the Academy-era that she finds hilarious and more reflective times during which they just hold each other's hands and hope for the best. Sometimes, Jemma would bring research papers on his condition 'Old habits die hard' and she would bring her computer to do some trolling on Tumblr.

He doesn't wake for the first 8 days, and Skye hates it. She hates to see the toll it's taking on Jemma, the toll it's taking on all of them.

When she's roused from sleep at 4.30 AM on the 9th day, even before her alarm goes off for training with May, she's acutely aware of three things : Jemma is the one shaking her awake, she's crying, not even making a sound, and she has the most excellent Battlestar Galactica pyjama pants.

"He just woke up, come on". She's so sleepy that she forgets that she sleeps in a tank top and boxer shorts. A loud gasp, followed by a blushing scientist looking anywhere but in her direction, fumbling with apologetic words reminds her that pants are not optional in the rest of the facility.

"Well, give me two seconds, I'm not entirely sure Koenig would be so happy to see me wandering in panties, even though I'm pretty sure he's gonna eat up all that shit. Pretty sure he's an undiscovered model... that would explain a lot" She points at Jemma's pants.

She is met with a gigantic roll of her eyes, and without any sound, she's hurried to the med bay.

* * *

It's bad.

She should have known. Statistics and neurobiological research had prepared her rational side for this. She's heartbroken when she's being told that the apoxia had caused significant dommage to his brains and that his abilities would most likely be forever impaired. She looks at the hand she's holding. These hands used to wield so much knowledge into raw material. These hands she used to grip at the Academy when she was getting stressed out before a presentation they had to do. The hands that dried all of her tears when her grandma, with whom she was the closest in her family, passed away when they were at Sci-Ops. She slowly looks into his sleeping face. He still looks the same, minus the stubble that's growing. What's even worse, for her, is that she has subconsciously started mourning for them. FitzSimmons, the dynamic duo they once were, is no more. It's no use to delude herself into thinking things will remain the same, because they won't.

She doesn't know how to handle this.

After a particularly gruesome physio/speech therapy sessions with Fitz - she can't tamper with the medical side but she will be there every step of the way for the recovery for the rest - during which no progress was made, and Fitz started shouting at her in frustration, she's called to Director Coulson's office for an urgent matter. 20 minutes later, she knows her life is about to get much more complicated and dangerous.

She doesn't know how to handle this shit with Fitz? She won't have to because she just got sent into the belly of the beast.

At Hydra.

* * *

It's bad.

She should have known because Jemma had told her everything ad nauseam. She's still in shock : Fitz will never be the same again. She trusts the scientists and medical team to do their best to make progress with him, but apoxia was an unrepenting bitch. It's been 2 weeks since Fitz came out of his coma and so far, the ever-in synch FitzSimmons is in shambles. They are trying to recreate a dynamic that is irremediably damaged and they now have to figure out how to make a new one. And they clearly both struggle with what it means for them, for their friendship.

She's also worried about Jemma, who has clearly withdrawn from everybody, especially from her. Jemma 'bless her' can't lie to save her life, and since an odd meeting she had the day before with DC, she's been extremely evasive. Evasive to the point where she is going to confront her to have some answers because you just don't cut yourself from your people, especially not at a time like this. When she knocks on her door, she hears the ruckus. A chair being pulled, bags sliding on the floor, things being thrown on the bed. She knocks again, this time with more success. The door opens with a violence that is uncharacteristic of Simmons.

"Oh hello Skye, what can I do for you?". Robot Simmons is back. The one that makes an appearance everytime she has to lie, she one with the wide smile that doesn't reach her luminous eyes, the one that tells Skye something very wrong is about to happen.

She looks behind Jemma, pointing at the mountain of clothes on the bed. "Are you moving somewhere? what's going on?" She asks

"I'm leaving". Jemma sure packs a punch for such a tiny woman.

"Excuse me? I think there must have been some alien interference because did you just say you were leaving? What, now? SHIELD? What about Fitz, what about..." 'Me', she adds silently in her head.

That's when the tears start. Jemma starts bawling and it's a flurry of excuses and half-assed explanations about how she needs to go see her parents, how she is unable to go on this way with Fitz being incapacitated, how she needs to take a step back to see things more clearly, how she's so tired of all of this.

"What do you need to go away for? This is bullshit Jemma" She's starting to feel the telltale prickling of her eyes, but she ploughs on, voice rising. "What on Earth are you thinking? Seriously. .FUCK. Is Ashton Kutcher hiding under your bed and there's a Punk'd revival, because this is utter BS, Jemma! What are you thinking? You're the level-headed one, you're the one always so fuckin resilient. You jumped out of a fuckin plane to take one for the team. I mean, what are a few weeks of therapy and being yelled at by Fitz going to do to you? Why are you doing this? I... Jemma please tell me this is a bad joke... We need you here... Fitz needs you here... Hell, I need you here..."

She can't go on. She looks directly in Jemma's eyes and she can see the lie, she can see the dishonesty of it all. She shakes her head, tears finally running down her face.

"I never thought you were a quitter, Agent Simmons. Goodbye, have fun in England".

"Skye, wait..."

She hears Simmons but she doesn't have what it takes to turn back and not run into her arms and she can't do that, especially now that she's leaving. she's already out of her bunk, hot tears not stopping anytime soon, and she doesn't even know what she's doing. She goes straight to the firing range, launching a training programm that does nothing to calm her nerves and proves ten fold that firing when in emotional turmoil is maybe not the best way to go.

* * *

She feels empty. She explained her decision to go see her family to the team, who met the news with various levels of acceptance but nothing had prepared her for the silent treatment Skye was giving her. It's understandable to be upset, and she explained that she was not quitting, just going on a retreat for some time. She had made that abundantly clear.

"Hell, I need you here". The words spoken by Skye resonate deep within her. She also knows that for this mission to go smoothly, she just can't let her feelings get in the way, she'd have time for that later, when she comes back, time to evaluate them carefully, weigh in all the variables but she wasn't kidding herself...'Because of course, I have feelings for Skye'. She is a scientist, she is a rational person, but sometimes, the body does all the talking. It's obvious when she feels her heart racing when they are too close, when she aches to run her fingers along her wrists whenshe's typing so elegantly on her tablet, when she just wants to be as close to her as possible, when she just dies to run her tongue over her lips. 'Enough, Jemma, now is not the time', she rolls eyes at herself, so easily swept up by the ever charming Skye.

When they had welcomed the younger woman, Jemma had not even been interested, physically speaking. She could absolutely go on the record at that time and state that her body was in all the right proportions, and that her hair was so shiny that it really was ridiculous, but it's when they grew closer that she ensnared her senses 'How very Severus Snape'. She is her best friend, too, and that is why she has kept to herself, because as much as she knows she could make her come so many times that her brain would freeze, she also values their friendship way too much to jeopardise it over sex. Also, Skye has never given her any reason to believe that she would be down with getting naughty with a woman. It's also very much true that herself hadn't given Skye any reason to think that she wasn't limiting herself to one gender.

What a bloody conundrum.

And now Skye hates her. Because she knows she's hiding something and the one thing they always vowed to each other was to be honest. Jemma realises with a start that maybe Skye thinks she says she'll be back but will resign once she touches British soil. She really hopes Director Coulson will somehow pluck her out of Hydra quickly, because being away is going to be torture. She won't be able to monitor Fitz' progress, won't be able to help him out with the blueprints he created but can't seem to remember now... she won't see Skye...

She sighs. The transport that is coming to get her is landing in minutes and the infuriating hacker is nowhere to be seen. She does admit that not seeing her for the departure is like a punch in her stomach. But she has to get over it.

Just when she finishes receiving hugs from the team, she sees a lone figure at the back of the landing bay.

They look at each other across the bay, and once again, her heart skips a beat.

* * *

She's waiting for Simmons' jet to arrive, hidden behind crates because she's the world's biggest coward and because she's fuckin pissed at her. She can't give into her feelings before she leaves, because that would lead to her giving Jemma a wholly different goodbye than what's normally expected between best friends.

'Because of course I have feelings for Jemma'. She sighs in defeat. She's still confused at how they seem to have materialised basically overnight. But there is no denying it, there are a lot of M-rated things she would like to do to her, and she's not talking about taking her to the shooting range to fire guns or watch gory movies.

She will have to quash these feelings way deep, though, like the master repressor she used to be. For now, she's looking at her, and she swears her heart speeds up. She nods once, tight smile on her lips. It's the minimum, she knows it, but it's the best she can do under the circumstances. Because despite her explanations, she can't shake off the uneasiness around this very out-of-character cop out.

She can only hope she'll be back soon. if she ever comes back.

She walks back into the base, looking at her cardio watch. 126.

Fuck.

* * *

She watches Skye's back as she walks back into the base, eyes brimming with tears.

Director Coulson comes up to her, a hand that feels very paternal on her shoulder and that shakes her off efficiently. She has a job to do, she cannot let SHIELD down. 'I mean, what would Peggy Carter do?'.

"Ready to go, Agent Simmons?"

A nod.

"I am".


	3. Crosshairs

AN: thanks for reading! is being facetious right now so I hope you get the formatting rigt with the separation between the POVs. Don't hesitate dropping me a line, it's always good to know what is hopefully done right and also what can be improved! Cheers

It's only been a week. It feels like weeks.

She really tried keeping herself busy, to think about anything but the sad smile she got when she had come to the landing bay to see her off. She tried really hard. But so far, nothing works and everything hurts. She's starting to wonder how someone's absence can result in such heartache and comes up with no rational answer to that. It's not like she's in danger, she's just in fucking England.

She misses her friend. It's that simple.

She misses their daily talks, even if they were just quick and in the corridors between their respective workplaces because they couldn't spare minutes during the day. She misses the tea ritual at 7.10AM, on the clock - what she had come to love and observe religiously each and everyday. It's quite fascinating, actually, because it's such a reflection of how her brains operate. Quick, efficient fingers measuring the leaves, attentive eyes controlling the temperature of the water _'No, Skye, it must NOT boil, at any cost. For this particular blend, the water has to be at precisely +75°C to infuse the leaves perfectly… Don't roll your eyes'_. She misses the nightly routine they had going with Fitz, though that routine had been slightly altered when he woke up.

She misses Jemma.

* * *

It's only been a week. It feels like a full rotation of the Earth around the Sun. Not that she is one to exagerate, anyway.

She was hired at HYDRA 2 days after setting camp in her new condo. She likes it, she's got to give this to Director Coulson, it's really not so bad, if not completely alien and unfamiliar and not… home. It's not home. SHIELD is home, Fitz is home, Skye is home. But she has a job. She's been entrusted with this incredibly important mission, and she is not about to bail on everybody because she's feeling homesick. She's better than that.

She's tired, nonetheless. Moving had not really been complicated. She had only packed her closet, and that's it. Thank God for SHIELD ressources because she had been granted a rather large amount of money to provide for food, clothes and any other miscellaneous expenses. She's not one to take advantage when there is not need to spend some government money but the eve of her first day, she goes to the nearest mall. She looks down at her choice of clothes. Jeans, Chucks, and a button-up. Predictable. Comfortable. Which was exactly the problem. The very essence of what she is going to do is to make scientific advances to create technology which will be used against SHIELD, against lawfully established government. She is at war with her ethics, but the consolation prize comes in the form of an external drive in which she will hopefully manage to get all the HYDRA intel she will gather on the side.

In the plane that had taken her to her new location, on the East Coast (she ventured Delaware because of course HYDRA would set up camp in a state with a tax rate close to zero. '_Evil to the last drop_'), she had been surprised to see Agent May accompanying her. The flight was 3 hours long, but to her, it felt like seconds because Agent May had decided to impart on her a good dose of last minute espionnage tactics lesson. She is forever thankful for these invaluable lessons, because Agent May empirically knows what she's doing.

That's part of why she's here, the day before her swan-dive into the Evil's lair, at a hair salon, to chop off her hair. She hates that she's come to this conclusion, but she needs a short bob. Long hair reminds her too much of before, of Jemma the SHIELD agent. She needs to be Jemma the HYDRA agent now. A change in hair is not going to change the fact that she still can't lie to save her life, but it adds character. It adds years to her face, it's more aggressive and in case of emergency, it's not going to stand in her way. Agent May had taught her some moves, and as a SHIELD-trained agent, she knows the basics, and the theory behind self defense and how to proceed. She really hopes she won't have to use her abysmal karate chops, and in case she has to, her hair won't be an hindrance. She shudders just to think about it. _'Off it goes'_

"Bad breakup, huh?"

"I beg your pardon?" She's surprised out of her reverie by the hairdresser, a woman who must be her mother's age, kind, but questioning eyes. The quintessential mom.

She looks as the woman points to her hair and looks at her with a pained expression.

"Oh no, noting of the sort, I'm single, so, this is just a… whim, I should say". She forces a smile, hand going up into her hair to fiddle with it.

"I'm sorry for assuming, you looked lost in thoughts and it definitely looked like a breakup face" She leans conspirationally to stage whisper "I see a lot of these here to be honest"

Jemma smiles. After indicating what she wanted, she is thankful the woman doesn't push the issue and doesn't force her into a mindless conversation. She absolutely hates mundane conversations. She completely abhors conversations at the hairdresser. She is aware that it's socially accepted that once you sit in front of that mirror and that someone styles your hair, you should engage in gossips, and exhausting small talk, which she has neither the skill, nor the patience for. That's why she's thankful she's not badgered into talking. The woman -_Linda_, according to her tag - must have seen that she was unreceptive and left her to her own devices.

So she thinks.

It's a tad sad, really, that the only meaningful relationships she's ever had have been with Fitz and now Skye. She'd never had the luxury to indulge in the nonsensicality that is love. Never really found anyone worthy, if she's being honest. She had thought Fitz, at first, might have been someone she could develop real feelings for, and she did. The platonic soulmate kind. Definitely not the sexual kind.

Seeing her hair ending up on the floor makes her think of skilled fingers running through it. The breakup mention earlier triggers her into thinking back quickly at the partners she'd had over the years. Never stable, always efficient, always pleasurable, even if, without fail, they'd never bothered to learn how having her hair played with was almost as good as having her nipples sucked. She remembers then how Skye - of all people - found out about it. They'd been huddled on the Bus' couch, waiting for the latest Grey's Anatomy episode (their mutual guilty pleasure) to load up on the screen when Skye had simply informed Jemma that she would braid her hair. _'So heads-up, Simmons, I'll be braiding your hair during the episode, ok? Your hair is amazing and I can't figure why you insist on it just being straight and by straight I mean straight up boring? So yeah, as your best friend, I can't let this infamy go any longer'_ She had spluttered a small protest but really, oh could she pass up the opportunity?

She could still quote the conversation they'd had perfectly, after all these months, that night that will forever remembered in her mind as the night Skye had a giggle attack when, after the first involuntary moan she hadn't been able to control, she had had to confess to having a thing with her hair being played with.

"What you mean to tell me, Jemma mild-mannered-and-always-so-proper Simmons, is that you totally have a hair fetish." Skye had giggled, a finger pointed at her face in wonderment and Jemma had simply rolled her eyes.

"I do not, it's not like that, Skye" She really should have seen this coming.

"Oh come on, I confessed liking it rough from time to time, you can totally admit to this, it's not a terrible secret or anything…" She relents, because Skye does have a point

"Ok, yeah… I guess I do have a 'hair fetish' as you so wonderfully put it. I like in a comforting way, it's soothing and tota…" she can't even finish her sentence before Skye interrupts

"…and do you like it in a sexual way? I'm willing to bet you do, you little tiny freak, a little tug here and there keeps your engine going, am I right?". Skye had fully turned her body her way, ends of her hair still in one hand, eyes full of laughter.

"Urgh, I should have known you wouldn't let it go…. Yes, I do. But none of my previous lover, save a rather timid and utterly botched attempt by one of my Academy partner, ever took the time to appropriately do it to my full satisfaction".

"Such a pity" Skye frowns playfully and pokes her shoulder.

"Couldn't agree more". The smirk she produces seems to amuse Skye to new levels, and it takes a while for them to settle down to watch the TV. But when they do, Skye is no longer braiding her mane, but she's gently tugging on her scalp with strands of hair safely woven in her fingers. Jemma almost purred throughout the night.

She has no business going nostalgic now, hair grows back, anyway. So she steels herself and when the last long strands hit the floor, she has to fight to keep her tears at bay.

* * *

It's been 2 weeks and still no contact of Jemma. She tried going to DC, but he wouldn't say a thing, only reaffirming that she was still in England, and still processing. Skye did not believe a word because as much as DC is a spy, she's steadily getting better herself and she knows all of his tells. For one, when he lies to her, and lie to her he did, when they first got her on the bus, he'd alway have that infuriating half smile or half smirk, or half pout, depending on his mood. But he did have a tell, a tell that was in full-effect every time she was asking about Simmons.

She realizes that she's back to calling her almost exclusively Simmons in her mind, when she'd been Jemma for months prior to this.

She remembers how affected by her presence she had been the last couple of weeks before she left, how she had come to terms with the fact that she did have feelings for her.

Feelings were not the issue. Knowing what these feelings meant or were, that was the issue. Because as much as she's always found Jemma to be the most amazing person in the world, she really does not have a clue whether these feelings are simply a byproduct of their close-knit friendship or if they are part of something much more heady, much more dangerous, and much more scary for her.

She's always kept her heart close to the vest, never engaging in long, committed relationships. What she'd had with Miles was sincere, absolutely, but sincere in the way that they both subconsciously knew that they were not endgame. They were both drawing comfort from the other, comfort, warmth, occasional sexual release, but never more. She'd never told Miles about her childhood at the orphanage, always avoiding these talks. She'd never told him about her various foster families and how she had hoped one of them would like her enough to keep her longer than what they'd usually do. She'd never told him of her feeling of inadequacy, of her fear of rejection despite an ever-confident exterior.

She'd told Jemma _everything_. Nights spent laying down one one of their bunks, just side by side, trading stories, telling each other everything. When she thinks about how she'd felt when Garrett told her oh-so-calmy that the scientists had been brave to their end, she'd felt her heart being ripped from her chest. She'd maintained her cool spy air, but underneath, she'd been terrified, because it meant that Jemma was gone. Fitz was gone. She doesn't know now how to live in a world where the dynamic duo doesn't exist. They've become family, and that's exactly why she can't cope with Simmons' departure. It's too sudden, too rash, too illogical, which are precisely 3 adjectives she'd never have used to describe any of Simmons' actions, ever.

And these feelings are killing her. She's been doing some amazing work during the day with May, and she sees the progress she makes. She's useful to SHIELD, she's becoming a real asset and can finally fend for herself on the field, thanks for the relentlessness with which May works her… During the day, she's fine, cool and collected.

She unravels at night, the feeling of loss almost insurmountable.

* * *

If she has to deal with mindless research for the duration of the mission, she is going to scream and punch something. That thought alone tells her that something is most definitely wrong with her because she'd never resort to violence of any kind, not that she is capable of it anyway. She looks down at her hands, griping the edge of her worktable at her HYDRA lab. A sigh. She lifts her head and looks around, eyes settling on one of her coworker. She should be concentrating on what she's doing but the task is so uninteresting, she could do it in her sleep. She did it under 20 minutes, though, and for now, she has nothing new to work on. So she observes. She's getting good at that, if she does say so herself. These two weeks of undercover work doing wonders for her as an agent. She considers herself one of the best scientific asset of the organization, along with Fitz, but she knows her field work is shaky, at best.

Her intelligence and knowledge allow her to complete any work HYDRA have given her so far in minutes, and she finds herself in these time lapses where she has nothing to do but observe.

Her straight forward vision of life and rational approach to all things make her oblivious to social and behavioral cues, sometimes, because she is not one for games. But she knows what people said when she was introduced to the open space lab she was working in. She heard the whispers. She even thought she saw some former Academy alumni, obviously gone to the Dark Side. She does know she has a reputation, and she can see people familiar with her background wondering what the hell she was doing here. The only friendly nod she got right from the start was from her newly appointed lab collegue - she refuses to say lab partner. That's _Fitz_ \- . She also caught a few appreciative glances sent her way. She's not oblivious to that, she is aware that her physical appearance does attract certain people, and when her itch needs to be scratched, she does take advantage of her looks to have this fixed.

She's never told Fitz, or anyone for that matter that for all the sciences she was diving into at the Academy, she never hesitated when propositioned by someone who would appeal to her sensitivities. Always off the radar, always one-shot, always efficient. For her, there is no shame in seeing something you like and just going for it if there is mutual interest. It might seem callous to just fuck and then say goodbye, but it's the most rational thing there is. Which is why she was currently looking at one of her coworker with some level of interest. Dark hair, penetrating dark eyes, long powerful legs, a nicely tanned skin, very agile hands and a body clearly fit for exercice. She rakes her brain for a name. '_Alicia_' she nods to herself. She saw the woman looking at her, she knows she's interested in more than just the scientific advances she makes. She needs a plan.

* * *

They are both on a recon mission, a very harmless recon mission. It's pretty clean cut, and on their last night away from the Playground, she manages the incredible feat to get May to accompany her into a club she had looked into on internet. They both agree that they need to take the edge off, but she knows that she has her reasons for wanting a night of mindless fun and drinks : she wants a night to forget about her leaving SHIELD. About Simmons leaving their team. About Jemma leaving Skye. She figures May agrees because she, herself, has a lot to deal with, with the new responsibilities as her SO, but also as DC's most trusted lieutenant. Once inside the bar, after checking the perimeter and nodding to each other when they find the coast to be clear and devoid of any danger _'I'm starting to act like May, jeez'_, they decide to let loose. May and herself don't talk much, but the shots May is buying do all the talking. They agree to stop at 4, leaving them sober enough to be in complete control of their minds but loose enough to allow them to dance to the music, to let their bodies flow in rhythm with the crowd around them.

She feels alone, though. And she's pretty sure so does May. Funnily enough, she starts recognizing May's behavior at the same time May starts being aware of hers. They don't talk about what they book seek tonight. It's plain to see. May nods to Skye to a dark corner where they can talk.

"I know what you are doing and you know what I'm doing. Let's cut the chase. I'm not your mother but as your SO, it's my duty to ask you to be safe. And please be at the rendez-vous point tomorrow morning at 0615. Our extraction team comes in at 0700 and I want to debrief with you before they come".

"I don't know what you're talking about?" She feigns ignorance, but May simply raises an eyebrow.

"Oh please, I saw you literally eye-fuckin that tiny woman over there, kinda like you do with Agent Simmons during briefings when you think nobody notices. Anyway, If you ask me, she won't be hard to sway, she's been looking at your…assets since we've arrived."

"Whaaaat? What the fuck, are you crazy? I do not eye-fuck Jem… Agent Simmons, thank you very much. I don't know where you get your delusions."

"Of course you don't. My bad. And don't quote Princess Leia at me. Anyway, be smart about your choice of bed fellow, even for one night. Agent Romanoff almost didn't live to tell her tale". May smirks _'That must be an interesting story'_ Skye thinks.

"I'd advise you against going for tall, dark and handsome, but you did live to tell your tale, and someone is imprisoned so, I guess you know your shit" May scowls at the not-so-subtle dig at her Ward dalliance.

"You are insufferable, Skye"

"Yes, Mother" Skye bows a little, eyes wide with laughter

May frowns at that, but she can't hide the tiny uplift of her mouth. Skye would swear on her that May actually like when she winds her up. She sighs. That was fun but didn't exactly settled her problem. She needs to have sex. It's quite simple. The last time she had any action was last year when they had taken her in, and the last time she kissed someone, it was Grant fuckin Ward. 'How grand'. She needs to take her mind off of things, and the tiny woman with the pale skin she'd been eyeing will do. As May had pointed out, she seemed more than willing.

"See you tomorrow" May leaves her alone in her corner. _'Time for action, Skye, you've got this'_. She lifts her eyes to look at the woman. Eyes are staring right back at her: call answered. She sees there the clues she needs and with a push against the wall behind her, she propels herself into the dance floor.

She flirts up a storm, after all, it's one of her forte. Within minutes, she's got the woman '_Emily_' where she wants her: panting against her hot mouth after she maneuvers her in a dark corner, entrapping her small frame between the wall and her torso. She threads her fingers in her hair _'wrong texture'_, still kissing her with abandon, as if her life depended on her enjoying this very moment. She does enjoy this moment, even if it's not as liberating as she'd hoped. Once her companion is sufficiently wound up, eyes semi closed looking at her in a lustful gaze, Skye knows she needs more than just kissing and grinding in a dark corner.

"Would you like to get out of here?". The woman nods without a second of hesitation.

When Skye is backing her up against her hotel bed, she can't help but feel the thrill of impending sex. She likes these moments just before the act, when both participants are trying to figure out the cadence of the undressing. She likes that push and pull that exists in that timeframe. Skye likes being in control, she's used to it, it comes with the territory of her being an orphan and being self sufficient almost all of her life, never being able to trust someone enough. She's the one making things happen. She wouldn't mind relinquishing control to someone who would know what to do with her, who would take the time exploring her body but that takes trust and right now, nobody fits the bill. So when Emily ends up naked on the bed when Skye is still wearing her pants and her bra, it's really a no-brainer as to how the night will go forth.

When she's knuckles deep inside Emily, steadily building her up with her tongue, she feels empowered, she feels good and for a short moment, as the woman above her comes crashing down, she lets herself enjoy this. When she lifts her eyes up to the woman's face, the first thought she has is that the eyes staring back at her are not the right shade of amber.

The debrief with May is not so bad because the older woman looks well rested 'satisfied is more accurate' and her…Well, her one-time partner did manage to get her off, after she took care of her first, but something had been off and she didn't know why. '_Liar_' Her brain screams.

She has Alicia between her legs in 2 days. She figured her game plan pretty quickly. A nod in passing, a talk about science at the coffee machine _'What atrocities I wouldn't commit to get off, one will always wonder',_ a bright smile, a subtle brush of her shoulder when she leaves the lab, a compliment on a work she did, even if she thought it was floppy by her own standards _'All too easy'_. She's not about the occasional smugness and when she picks up someone that fast, she's rather proud of herself. She has to be creative, though, because there is no way she allows someone from HYDRA to get into her home. So she settles for a janitor closet.

She lingers late that one night, and so does Alicia, obviously waiting for her. _'Game on'_. She stands up from her bench, pretending she had not seen her 4 stools on her right. She fakes a yawn, closing her eyes, stretching her arms high above her head, rolling her neck and letting out a tiny moan that, in the relative silence of the lab, sounds quite obscene. When she opens her eyes, she sees the woman looking at her with badly concealed attention - and lust -, eyes zeroed on the little patch of skin that had shown when the shirt had ridden up her stomach. _'Check'_

"Oh hi, Agent Butler, I hadn't seen you here! working quite late too, I see! Something interesting, I presume?"

"Please, call me Alicia" the woman offers with a shy smile.

"I will, Alicia". She knows her accent is an asset and she's not above using it to its fullest extent. She doesn't even pay attention to what the woman has to say after that, because quite frankly she doesn't care. So she does the next thing that makes rational sense. She struts to the woman stool, lays a hand on her bicep, letting her nails drag up and down the length of it. The woman stops immediately what she was saying, an hopeful look in her eyes, and a faint blush on her cheeks.

"Listen Alicia, I'm gonna be honest with you. If I hear one more second of that terrible experiment you are running I will scream. The only scream I'm willing to overlook and welcome is you when I make you come with my tongue on your clitoris and my fingers inside your vagina. So I'll be down to the coffee machine in 2 minutes, and when you come to meet me, because let's face it, you are not so subtle, I'll take good care of you". She decides it's enough, and adds a raise of a eyebrow and a wink for good measure. she doesn't even have to turn around to know she will be followed. Not even 5 seconds ago, she hears the scrap of a chair being violently pulled back, and steps echoing her own. '_Checkmate_'.

An Itch is scratched, but she can't help but realize that while she had been properly eaten out, she'd closed her eyes and imagined an entirely different person doing this to her. A whole other set of dark eyes.

She feels satisfied but the sleep she falls into, that night, is not restful in the least. Body sated, mind in turmoil.

* * *

She feels something weird is going on with Coulson when he comes back from an "intel gathering" mission. There is something distinctively off, and when he comes back, she's there to welcome him and he smells like…_baked potatoes? 'what the frak?'_

The feeling of dread only amplifies when they go over the new mission… Donny fuckin Gill. She steals a quick look at Fitz. Same look of dread in his eyes. If only Jemma were here… The feeling of loneliness had given way to another feeling : acceptance. Acceptance that she left, acceptance that she might never come back, because let's face it, it's been a couple of months, and she's still not there. She was resigned in the knowledge that Simmons might never come back.

She'd spent too many nights thinking about her, how her friend had left them when they needed her the most, how Jemma how somehow broken her promise to always be honest -because Skye still believes that there was something she hadn't mentioned when she said she was leaving - , how Simmons, one of the most trustworthy, reliable and brilliant SHIELD agent had left the organization when it needed her the most. If she comes back, she doesn't know how she'll handle it.

All that she knows at the moment is that she needs to focus on that mission, in Morocco, because she's free falling solo for the first time. Training has paid off, though, because she lands seamlessly on the upper deck of the ship, like a cat landing on her paws. She pulls the chute as quickly as she can, hiding it behind a huge crate, and start assembling the rifle that's in her backpack. She hears via comms that there is a scuffle inside the building and '_Hold on for a second, did May just say Simmons is here?' and Did Coulson just asked to maintain her cover'._

She's absolutely stunned for a second. Then she smiles unwittingly _'of fuckin Jemma Simmons, to do something so fuckin selfless and stupid_'. She has her order though, and must keep her head in the game. Donnie comes walking into view, giving her a clean shot. She takes it, just as she sees a tall, dark and sharply suited man standing next to a wom… Skye realizes with a start that the woman in her crosshairs is Jemma. They are both looking around, trying to locate her, because after all, she had just shot their asset, and just when she thinks she's still hidden from view, Jemma turns around and looks right at her. She can't let the man see her, and he is top brass HYDRA, so she repositions her rifle to take him out. Jemma reads her mind, it seems, because just as Skye shoots, Jemma pushes the man, saving his life. She's pissed but she figured Jemma must have taken this opportunity to prove them that her allegiance is indeed with HYDRA.

She watches as she's loaded into an helicopter and flies away. It's the Playground goodbyes all over again, except that now, she knows where she's going, and she can't reign in the full body shivers up her body. She's undercover in HYDRA.

After the initial surprise, she's pissed. Who on Earth thought this was a good idea? Because this is _Jemma Simmons_ and she should be protected at all costs, not sent into the evilest organization on this planet.

On the flight that gets the team home, she's likE a bull waiting the be ridden in a rodeo derby._'How could they fuckin send her, she can't lie to save her life for fuck's sake'_. She doesn't know how Fitz will react when he will hear the news, if he hasn't already. Because he was left behind too, without the courtesy of a warning word. Nothing.

She confronts May about it, because if DC is the one who sent her, May, as his right hand, must have known. Of course she does, as she confirms her, and somehow, that calms her anger a bit. When she tells May about her worries and how she loves Simmons but she can't lie to save her life, she's thankful her SO takes the moment seriously and don't tease her like she did a couple of weeks ago in the club.

They finally land at the Playground.

DC doesn't seem surprised when she barges in his office, without notice, door flying open, slamming into the glass panel.

"What the fuck were you thinking, DC? I mean, ACTUAL FUCK" She can't keep her voice down

"Hello Skye, please do come in". He motions for her to sit down

"Don't you sass me now! How could you send Jemma in without telling us first? How do you think that makes us feel?" She doesn't want to sit and just stands behind a chair, hands griping the armrests.

"It's not about feelings, Skye, it's about her safety and how she cannot be compromised. I specifically asked for total secrecy on this one, and trust me, she had a few choice words for me when I told her she couldn't tell you and Fitz". Knowing that she asked that they'd be in the know is no consolidation to her, she's just livid.

"And when did you tell her that she was leaving? Did she even had time to prepare for it? She's not a field agent, she's not equipped for this" She is shaking and angry, a bad combo.

"Of course she did, she knew about it two days before going in. and she got prep when she was in the plane taking her to her new location. May saw to it."

Skye shakes her head and the tears that were threatening to fall finally run down her cheeks. "This is fucking dangerous, DC, I hope she comes home in one piece, or else… "

"… Or else what? She's a SHIELD agent, not a wide-eyed Bambi. Please I know she's important to you, to all of us, but don't think she wasn't fully aware of all the consequences. If anything, she's awfully good at preparation"

Skye chuckles through her tears "God, that daddy/daughter story she had for you guys in Italy was really one for the ages"

Coulson smiles wistfully at her "It really was. Don't worry, I have a plan, we'll do our best to keep her safe."

"Thank you, DC. Sorry again for the barging in… You know me " Skye shrugs and sniffles, then turns back on her heels to leave when, on the doorstep, she turns around to look at him one last time.

"Please keep her safe, if only so I can properly kick her ass when she comes back…I…I don't know what i would do if…" She can't finish, but she doesn't really have to.

Af if he knew she was going to say that, he nods solemnly "You have my word, Skye"

* * *

She's shaking on their way back to the HQ. She has plausible explanation to offer for this weakness she's exhibiting, with Donnie being shot right before her, and being the target of a sniper. She's kind of happy they ran into the SHIELD team because she was with Hydra the whole time, and somehow managed to save Bakshi's life. All good points that were needed to prove her loyalty to Hydra.

She feels her heart beat fast. Faster than it has in months. She knows why, though, she's not completely oblivious. Skye was the sniper. She could distinguish the form of her face, the overall outline of her body, and she'd be lying if she said she wasn't, even a little bit, starstruck at the sight of _Skye_ behind a sniper rifle.

She doesn't know how long she has to keep on pretending, but she's starting to feel at the end of her rope, there. Hopefully Coulson will take her out of Hydra once she starts the groundbreaking rise through their ranks he seems so sure she would make.

After the HYDRA team drops her home, later that day, she's exhausted but can't seem to fall asleep. She's in her bed, tucked under her covers, thinking about the day's events. Even from afar, seing Skye had been a shock to her system. It's as if she had forgotten she even existed outside of her imagination, outside of her thoughts. She realizes how much she misses her and how much she's alone for this mission.

She cries herself to sleep.

* * *

After the events of the day, seeing Jemma again for the first time in months triggered a really strong emotional and physical response. After landing at the Playground and yelling at DC, she had spent a couple of hours in the gym, not daring to go see Fitz right away. She figured he must have been told the news too, and was trying to cope by himself for a moment.

It's not enough, today. She needs to feel alive, she needs to feel something. So, after getting in her bed and under her blankets for the night, she's not even remotely surprised when her own hands start moving down her neck, teasing her body with light touches, going steadily south on her body. Maybe getting herself off was the solution, and that was infinitely better than beating the crap out of a punch bag, that's for sure. She gets really into it when she pinches one of her nipples, rolling it gently between her fingers, and when her other hand starts stroking herself in rhythm.

That's when _it_ happens.

She shouldn't do that. She really shouldn't. She should be smarter then that.

But she's past caring and when she comes hard, it's with _her_ name on her lips. She knows it's not healthy and she knows she will have to properly acknowledge these confusing and messy feelings in the harsh light of the morning to come but for now, the only comfort is that that particular release, with her in mind, had been satisfying like it hasn't been for a long time. Letting herself go completely, allowing her mind to wander and travel uncharted territories had finally provided her with what she has been craving : peace of mind, even if it's temporary.


	4. Close calls

(AN : thanks for reading! Just for info, I'm on a one chapter/week schedule)

_Fuckin Raina._

There is really nothing else running through her mind as she paces the restaurant's kitchen with May, looking out for possible enemies coming through here and more importantly, listening to the woman bargain for the Obelisk with DC and generally being a freaking nuisance, trying to rope DC and herself into meeting her dad.

She's torn, she's not denying it. It's been her long life search, and there it is, within arms' reach. She's wiser now, though. She knows there is a lot of conditions and consequences attached to that meeting, that of which will have an impact not only on her but on the whole team as well. She's also not stupid. She knows exactly what Raina is trying to do, she's a master at emotional manipulation, and she's not falling for that and all of her destiny crap.

She feels May moving next to her, as if she were sensing her internal struggle and wanted to protect her and lend her some of her strenght, and in a way, she realizes, that is shockinlgy caring, and _Damn_ if that doesn't gives her a case of the feels

Then Raina does the unthinkable.

_'Oh hell no, she did not just threaten to expose Jemma'_. No more stuggle, no more moral dilemna, there is no fuckin way she's letting Jemma's cover being blown to pieces, because if she's discovered she's pretty sure she's dumb and loyal enough to let herself die to keep SHIELD's secrets. And THAT is entirely unacceptable.

She's on autopilot and already moving towards the door when she's held back by May who's having none of her antics right now. She tries to reason with her that DC has been crazy and unhinged these days but as she moves back again towards the restaurant's room, she's literally body-slammed into a freezer by May who's hell bent on not letting her go anywhere near Raina. They have a plan apparently and as much as she wants to argue and march to Raina to tell her to stop fuckin around and drive her to her genitor, she's also not stupid enough to engage in a fight with May which will only end up in her being embarassedly handed her ass on a plate. Because she might have improved tremendously on her fitness, fighting skills and general spy skill set but she's nowhere near the vicinity of May's ninja skills.

She hears Coulson rejecting the offer a last time, she hears the indignant retort Raina makes, and she hopes that Coulson really, _really_ knows what he's doing because Jemma's life at Hydra is gonna get really, _really_ complicated and fucking dangerous in a couple of minutes if Raina indeed follows through with her threat. DC cares about Jemma, he cares about the well-being of the teams and of course he must have a plan. But if HYDRA manages to get to Jemma before she somehow escapes, the organization is not going to go easy on her. She's gonna be interrogated, most likely beaten up, and god forbid, brainwashed.

She prays Coulson has a plan and a team ready to get Jemma the fuck out of this hell hole and back at the Playground.

* * *

Agent Morse, the head of security, is _terrifying_.

There really are no other adjectives to describe her, even if terriffying, but breathtakingly gorgeous, accurately fits the bill too. It's especially true when she's towering over her lab bench, looking into her eyes, as if she knew with absolute certainty that she was lying, that she was the mole they were looking for. She just had the time to plant the flex screen into her colleague's drawer, and for that, she's relieved. She shouldn't be grateful to have been the reason an innocent man was taken in for questionning, but survival is unforgiving. She has no choice but being ruthless and self reliant because no one is going to help her, there. She's alone at HYDRA and she must not falter.

She tries her best to appear nonchalant but she's not sure she managed to send Agent Morse off her scent. Her little maneuver with the flex screen provided some distraction and for now, the head of security is getting out of her hair, and off to interrogate Kenneth, she presumes. Toilets become a much needed refuge because even if she's not trusting HYDRA with anything, she's fairly certain they aren't bugged or at least videotaped. She gets into a stall and finally, for the fist time since she arrived that day at work, she can breathe and let herself go, worry clearly etched on her face, hands rubbing over her eyes. She knew the risks. She knew, but that kind of close call is a reminder that she's not just playing pretend. She's undercover at the evilest organization, one that will not hesitate for a second to torture her, brainwash her, or just plain kill her if she is made. She has a weird and totally out of place image forming in her head, of a Dalek rolling around between the lab benches, searching for her and screaming for her extermination.

She giggles dejectedly and whispers, eyes towards the ceiling "God, I'm so dead".

She wishes she could take herself seriously, and she does, but for these precious seconds in that stall, she just wants to pretend like it's some kind of a cosmic joke, that she is not amongst people who wish destruction upon civil populations and seek world domination. For a second, she lets her mind wander back to the Playground, to the team, to Fitz struggling to get back to a semblance of a functionning human, to her late night conversations with Skye.

She sighs. After the first few weeks which had been horrendous for her - _'I was a wreck_' she reminds herself - , she had managed to shut down the emotional side of her to just concentrate and focus on the mission. Focus on the science, focus on gathering intel...focus on not getting herself _killed_.

And there she is, hiding in a stall because some Amazon is trying to put the fear of God in her.

"Ok you can do it, Jemma, come on. Everything will be just fine". The little pep talk she's giving herself manages to somehow have a positive influence. Deep breath. Shoulders held high, ready to take whatever HYDRA throws at her. A flush of the toilets and it's showtime.

She opens the stall with a new sense of purpose, or with a _kind-of-renewed_ sense of purpose and she knows she can d... and there she bloody is. She can't help the physical reaction she has to her immediate proximity and she takes two steps back 'Bad move, Jemma', head immediately looking down to the floor, and she is so pissed at her inability to appear non plussed and placid. Because there she is, in all of her tall glory, looking as if she knew all of her secrets, all smirk and swagger, and damn her because that is a heady mix, and it's fuckin up with her newly acquired not-that-bad-at-lying game. She is blushing, she knows it, but she can't help it. She releases a shaky breath.

"Don't you seem nervous?"

She really wants to scream that _of bloody course_ she is incredibly nervous, but she manages to blurt out that very same sentiment, in a less crude manner, because she figured, as Coulson had advised, that sometimes, telling the truth is just much simpler. And she cannot fuck _that_ up.

Turns out, she _can_ fuck that up, because Agent Morse does not buy into her attitude and plainly calls her out on her lying skills. In these moments, she indulges and inwardly thinks about how Skye would have had a suave and cheeky retort at the ready, sure to charm the pants off anyone. She's pushing her hair behind her ear - nervous habit she picked at the Academy - and while this gives her 2 seconds to think and shake herself off these thoughts, it also broadcasts how flustered she really is. She's let off the hook, miraculeously, she doesn't know why, and she prays she won't have to face her again. Hopefully, Kenneth questionning will be long enough for things to settle down. She'll need to be more careful about smuggling in her flex screen because that was not smart at all on her part to have them lying around like that. Bloody idiotic, even.

She finally finds the courage to step outside and go back to her bench, but as soon as she steps into the open space lab, she knows something is wrong. There is not a sound as she walks by the other scientists, and as she tries to make herself look smaller, she feels everyone looking at her. 'Weird'. She gets to her stool. There is a picture of her, sitting on stairs in the square she usually goes to, with the flex screen, on her computer's screen. She looks around, people are watching her, disbelieving, disgusted looks on their faces, trying to understand, wondering what to make of this.

Jemma Simmons knows she is utterly fucked the second she sees Sunil Bakshi and 2 soldiers coming after her.

So she runs. For her life.

* * *

Once Raina is out of the fuckin door, DC is already on the phone.

She's not close enough to hear everything but she can catch tidbits.

"... cover is blown, move on to th extraction plan, insider is warned, get the Quinjet in position".

What strikes Skye the most is how calm he appears to be. There he is, having potentially sent Jemma to her death, and he doesn't even seem phased. God knows she is. Because if anything were to happen to Simmons, she doesn't know if she's equipped to handle it. Hell, she knows she's not fuckin equipped to deal with that kind of loss. Not after all they've been through, not when she means so much to her. She shakes herself off and listens as DC recaps the next move to pursue not only Raina, but also her father who appears to be in possession of the Obelisk now... '_Great, just fuckin GREAT'_

She's a bundle of messy emotions, though, torn between feeling absolutely worried sick for Jemma and feeling exhausted and sad about her father's situation. She knows she shouldn't feel sorry for herself, that she should focus on the mission, but right now, she just wants to curl up on Jemma's lap, like they used to, and cry.

"Come on, Skye, let's go" A tug on her arm and May looking at her like a mama bear waiting for her kid is all she needs to get her head back in the game.

* * *

She's _dead_.

There is no way she's escaping Bakshi who's coming on one end of the corridor and there's no way she's escaping Agent Morse and her 2 goons coming on the other end. She resigned herself to her capture, and whatever they are going to do to her when she sees Agent Morse reaching for something in her back '_handcuffs, for sure'._

Then, chaos.

_'What the everloving fuck is happening?'_

Not only does Agent Morse wipes the floor with the soldiers with what appears to be batons, but she seems to do it effortlessly. Jemma can't be more confused, because after all that Morse said to her, how she implied that she knew she was lying, she could have sworn Morse was on her case, ready to blow her cover and make her pay for having the audacity of trying to infiltrate the organization.

She's not given any time to think as Agent Morse is basically taking her for a run through HYDRA corridors. She's never been more thankful for her routine fitness regimen that she's always insisted on, since her and Fitz joined the Academy, because right now, she's running for her life. She learns pretty quickly that Agent Morse was sent by Coulson to keep an eye on her, and she's forever grateful for that. She's told to get on the roof and wait for the extraction team and _that_ she can do. After all, following the rules always makes her feel nice, and following _that_ order is more of a relief than anything.

As she runs up the stairs to the roof, she can't help the tiny smile on her face. She's going home.

When she's on the roof, though, there is no extraction team in sight, not a soul, and she drops the smile immediately, looking around and trying not to get shot by a soldier who, somehow, had managed to find her at lightning speed. Then, she sees Bobbi 'Amazon' Morse barge in on the roof, taking down the guard, and shooting at the HYDRA soldiers who are running after her, outnumbering them by the second.

Then she's told to jump.

_That_ is an order she's most definitely not comfortable with following blindly, but what can she do? She's seen Morse in action, and she trusts her to make the good call now. If she says 'jump', Jemma figures she has to take that leap of faith. _Litterally_. After she barrels down the side of the building, her legs finally hit something solid. She is not the most accomplished agent, though, and she's quick to fall on the side of the Quinjet that materialized out of the sky. Morse is there to anchor her, though, and she feels the iron grip the taller woman has on her arm.

She manages to get herself into the Jet, fitting through the trap on the hull.

She's safe. Trip is flying them home.

Home, at last.

She ventures a look at Agent Morse, looking every bit as intimidating as she did earlier, flying copilot to Trip. She's in awe of what she saw back at HYDRA, in awe of how she managed to make her fear for her life with only a subtle smirk on her lips and a piercing stare. She's also impressed by the obvious physicality of her job as an agent because the batons and the ass kicking were seriously fantastic.

She feels the giggles coming, but she can't keep them inside. Her treacherous mind, once again, responsible for that nonsense. But yeah, she giggles, because as much as it pains her to admit it, she find Bobbi to be absolutely beautiful and this is something she really shouldn't be thinking about. She knows she is prone to hero worship sometimes, and tends to gush whenever a lady does something badass, as Skye would say. _'I mean, there is nothing wrong in casually observing that, empirically, our height difference would make for some interesting bedroom situations and that her breasts are just at lips' reach, right?_' A sigh escapes at her thoughts.

'I'm so going to hell' she mutters, in the silence of the cargo bay.

* * *

She hears via comms that Trip is flying them home. She knows Jemma is on that plane, with another agent, one Skye does not know. The ride back to the Playground after the discovery of her father's lair is relatively silent, the weight of what they found is unmistakable. Until DC turns to Melinda, a wide smile on his lips.

"Oh, did I mention that Agent Morse is reassignd to the Playground with us" DC is all smiles.

"Really? Barbara? And how did you manage _that_? You know she'd rather be on the field at all times. Not that I complain, she's a great agent and friend" Hearing May so readily accepting a new person into the team is unsettling, to say the least, even more when she off handedly says that they are friends, but she keeps quiet in her seat, and listens.

"I guess I knew which buttons to push, and Bobbi told me that she was looking forwards to working more, and I quote, "in-depth" with Jemma, I mean, she does have the same scientific background, and we all tend to forget that." Skye almost snorts at that.

"True. She did come through Sci-Tech, and not Operations and graduated top of her class, too."

At this, Skye's ears perk up, and she can't hep the curiosity this new agent is provoking in her. _'A Specialist, with Jemma and Fitz' Sci-Tech background and genius? That's new, and kind of terrifying',_ she thinks

"She wants to participate in the rebuilding of SHIELD, and feels like she could bring her experience to the table. She also specifically asked if you were with us".

"Oh did she, now?" Skye is waiting with batted breath, because things got just a little more intruiguing, and the tone of May's voice clearly indicates she's amused.

"Yeah, she mentioned a thing about how you and Natasha owed her something"

"That's only between Barbara, Natasha and myself, Phil. Need to know basis, you know how it is" Skye can hear the smirk on May's face.

"Should I be afraid?" DC is raising one eyebrow, sliently questioning May.

"You've seen the three of us together on very high profile missions, so... you decide."

"Please Melinda, don't destroy the Playground once Bobbi arrives, I rather like it". Skye can't believe her ears when she catch a little laugh and a whine, courtesy of Coulson.

"We'll be careful".

Skye can't take it anymore, and curiosity is killing her.

"OK, enough. I know I've been a SHIELD agent for 2 days and basta, but can you please explain who this person is? Because honestly, she sounds terrifying, but in a good way?"

DC smiles, a crooked smile, one that clearly indicates he's trying to contain giggles, and he looks over for a second to May, shrugging, and nodding at May, as if he wanted the older woman to speak. May is clearly not amused at being used as SHIELD wikipedia, but she turns fully to Skye anyway.

"Barbara Morse is a Specialist. Went through Sci-Tech. Been with us a decade. Extremely proefficient in combat, marksmanship and she is partial to batons for close combat. She's used to undercover works, and is freakishly tall".

"and beautiful". Skye frowns at that.

"Really, that's all that gets your attention?" May snorts, and Skye echoes the sentiment.

"Well, she is. Truth be told, she's a remarkable asset. And quite unfairly to us all, mere mortals, she's very nice, very lively, great sense of humour. Just like May over there". Just as DC points his fingers at May in gentle teasing, she snatches it.

"Don't push it, Philip". She sounds like a scolding mom

"I rest my case" and he sounds like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Skye smiles at their antics -_ 'they are so married'_ \- and is thankful Jemma was in such great hands.

* * *

"Agent Simmons, I gotta tell you, it's really great to see you in the flesh, and back where you belong". She unbuckles her seat belt and comes to stand behind Agent Morse seat.

"Thanks Trip, it's so great to be back, I missed all of you".

"When I heard on the comms you were on that ship, listening to May and Coulson asking not to blow your cover, I was scared for you, Jemma, because I know how well you deal with the science, but on the field..." She snorts.

"I'm sorry I caused any worries, Trip, I just... I'm just glad Agent Morse here..."

"Bobbi" She's interrupted and feels like a blushing schoolgirl, again.

"Bobbi - sorry - turned out to be SHIELD because I was convinced that she - you, she says, pointing at her - were gonna turn me in and have me dead". She shivers at that.

"Well, you don't have the strongest lying skills, and the best poker face, that's true, BUT you've really done a decent job and I'm sure you gathered valuable intel on the disk. And I knew you were under pressure so I was teasing a little more than I should have. I mean, playing evil and strutting around like a goddamn number 6 is just so frakin fun" Agent Morse is laughing but something caught Jemma's attention

"You are terrible. Also, are you a Battlestar Galactica fan? Because the frakin and the reference to number 6 - and you gotta tell me if you're referring to Caprica 6 or Gina, or another embodiement- are most definitely a clue and oh God, I'm sorry I'm rambling, I'm such a disgrace, but asides from Fitz and Skye, there is no one I can ramble about it to, and well, if you love it I have all the DVDs at the Playground and a lot of theories about the regenerative science and ... Oh bloody hell, I'm sorry, I haven't talked this much in months, and especially not about Battlestar Galactica. Please ignore me, I'm just so excited to be back, I'm being a nuisance, sorry". She is out of breath once she stops, but full on ashamed of this outburst.

"Oh, please, don't stop, you should hear the theories I have about the newly formed neuronal connections and how memories of past bodies are transferred via the brand new synapses, because I'm sure you'd shit your pants. Also you wouldn't believe the amount of grumbling I'm not able to contain at the scientific inaccuracies, it's crazy, I'm not a good person to watch this with, to be honest"

Jemma stops for a second, mouth wide open, hands clutching at her chest, a big grin on her face, when a laugh involuntarily gets out.

"I'm sorry, I know we've met just hours ago, but would you consider marrying me?"

* * *

The closer they get to the Playground, the more nervous she gets. It's stupid, though. It's just Jemma. _Just Jemma._

A few months ago, yeah, she would have been just Jemma. Now, thinking about her, really thinking about her is akin to opening pandora's box, or, if she really wants to be less dramatic, a big old-ass can of worms. She hasn't allowed herself to dig deeper into what her feelings are doing in regards to the tiny scientist because underneath all the confusion, there is one disarmingly stark truth. She's her best friend.

You don't develop feelings for your best friends and have them fall madly in love with you, it's only in the movies that people have their happily ever after. She's not stupid enough to believe this could be the case with her and Jemma, because she never got any indication that Jemma is into ladies, and because there is no way she's ruining one of the best thing that's ever happened to her. A real, honest to god, deep connection with someone. It doesn't matter if they are polar opposite. At their core, they're much more alike than what people think.

Skye is not sure she's going to be able to meet her at the entrance of the base. She's too afraid she'll do something rash and/or _embarrassing_. She also knows there will be a welcome party, as May and DC seem way too eager for her taste to meet up with their newest doesn't know if it's because she is fiercely protective of the team they already have, or if it's because the specter of Ward's backstabbing is still looming over her, but she is definitely reluctant to open her arms as instantly as they all seem to do. She doesn't know her, and even if all they are saying is true, she's still not one of them.

She could tell Coulson had seen through her incertitude, and when they got to the Playground, he took Skye to his office, and plucked Agent Morse's file from the archives, asking her to have a look "and please give her a chance, she's a loyal SHIELD agent and a good person".

So there she is, reading the file of who appears to be one statuesque Barbara Morse. If the file is correct, she is towering over them all. She's also extremely competent and is, quite frankly, a little bit frightening. She gathered from the whispers around the Playground when word got out that she was coming, that she was, in some capacity, a very respected agent, with an excellent track record. Skye looked more in depth into the reports of various missions, and indeed, just like May had said, there had been half a dozen of very high profile missions, with security clearance level 8 and above, where her, Natasha Romanoff and May had been asked to team up. The reports are succinct but she can see clear as day that they are some kind of a Cat's Eye combo, and that's impressive.

Her musings are interrupted when she hears the telltale sound of an engine roaring above the building.

She's there.

* * *

Once Trip requests permission for landing, she gets nervous.

It feels like the day she left, all over again, but this time, she is not quite sure of the welcome she's about to get. She knows that intellectually, what she did was the only way to insure they had a trusted SHIELD agent inside HYDRA's labs, after all, she was the only one with enough qualifications to get this job done, but rationalizing the decision does not make up for the fact that she knows she hurt the two people she cares the most about. Fitz and Skye.

She needs to talk to them as soon as she can. If she had her way, she'd just run into their arms and never talk about it again, but she knows them both. While Fitz will surely give her the cold shoulder for some time, she's 100% sure Skye will be most... _vocal_ about her feeling. She knows she can talk the rationale of it all to Fitz, even if he's a sentimental prat underneath the science, but she's pretty sure that Skye would only be more infuriated if she tried to reason it to her, that's why she's scared.

Wheels are touching down.

Finally.

* * *

She can't bring herself to be with the welcome committee, she doesn't feel strong enough, and the way Simmons left is still a sore spot, so she decides to just get herself on the video feed. She prides herself in having set up the most efficient circuit of feeds and audio, and in for this specific case, she's happy she's insisted on installing state of the art microphones. She reaches for DC's headphones, thrown on his desk, and she plugs herself in. A little adjustment on the focus of the video feed and there it is before her, on Coulson's screen, the whole network of the Playground's feed. She knows she shouldn't try to trace Jemma like that, but knowing her as well as she does, she'll go straight to the lab to see Leopold, then will most likely go to the common room to see everyone and make herself some tea '_Typical_', then...

Skye doesn't want to blow her own horn but it would make sense to think Jemma would try to go to her bunk because if Skye isn't in the common room, that must mean she's in her bunk. She's also unsure of how they stand, to this day, because their last interaction had been less than spectacular. She was still hurting, and Jemma had been looking at her, from the other side of the landing bay, with such pain in her eyes, that they'd both been shaken up and unsettled.

So yeah, she's still unsure about how to proceed because if she looks into her feelings more closely, Skye knows that she's still fuckin hurt and that despite all the other feelings she has for the scientist, hurt is the prominent one at that moment.

She's done setting up the various feeds she wants to watch _'That doesn't sound stalkerish at all, Skye_', when she sees the jet finally landing.

The ramp of the jet lowers and the first person she sees out of the Jet is not Jemma, because she'd recognize her silhouette in the dark, but it must be Agent Morse, because she doesn't recognize this Amazon - 'Really, there is not other way to describe her' - with flowing dark tresses, and a swagger in her steps that is hypnotic. She can see how someone like her would be so efficient at playing evil, because even if she knows all about her track record as a SHIELD agent, and even if she just rescued her best friend, Barbara Morse looks terrifying.

She watches Agent Morse pause in the middle of the landing bay, and Skye suddenly has her heart in her throat because there she is, in the flesh. She is laughing at something Trip must be telling her, because as she's walking down the ramps, she's still looking at what's happening inside the ship and gesturing to the person inside. When she turns around towards Agent Morse, though, she goes back to being the shy and blubbering Simmons who appears to have developed a brand new hero worship for Morse.

It's obvious only because Skye knows her so well. It's all there, the way she's looking at Agent Morse from under her eyes, the way she's pushing back her hair behind her ears and the way she's wriggling her fingers - '_Fantastic, just what we didn't need'_ Skye thinks.

They move towards the entrance of the Playground and Skye fiddles with the joystick commanding the video feed to follow them into the building. She feels weird being such a voyeur, but that's all she can do for the moment. The combined emotional weight of what she discovered about her father, and Jemma finally coming home is something she can't handle. Not today.

She hears DC and May welcome her, she hears Jemma being so obvious in her appreciation of all things Agent _Call-me-Bobbi_ Morse.

She's being unfair, she knows it's childish, because yeah, that woman literally overflows with confidence: it's in the way that she walks, the ways she carries herself, the way she is so casual with Coulson and May... it's unfair, but there is nothing she can do to stop it, she doesn't like Agent Morse by principle.

Jemma is already entering the lab and that's a conversation she doesn't want to be privy to, because Fitz will debrief with her - they'd become much closer since Jemma left, and for that she's grateful - and because she doesn't want to be that intrusive, especially not when her 2 best people are involved, and especially not when she knows they have such a tight bond. Not even 5 minutes later, Jemma is already out of the lab, and heading to the Common Room - _'I knew it_' -. Upon further inspection, she looks upset, and she can bet good money that Fitz is giving her the silent treatment. If Jemma expects the silent treatment from her too, she has another thing coming...

Team members welcome her warmly, and from the tidbits of all the conversations going at once, she can little soundbites _'It's ok, you did what was asked of you' 'don't worry, you did a great job' 'No, I'm not mad, i'm just glad you are alive'._

She hears footsteps in the corridor coming her way. DC was ok with her reading Morse's file, but never said anything about running her own peep show from his own office. She quickly shuts down all the feeds she had opened on the giant screen and sits in his chair, looking, she hopes, as if she were just reading.

The door opens.

"So, did you enjoy the show down there?".

"What are you talking about?"She hopes her frown and tone are convincing.

"Skye. You do realize that Fury making me Director has nothing to do with the way I rock a suit, and everything to do with my skills, right?" Of course he knows.

"I fail to see your point, sir". She will milk it to the end.

"I saw the lenses of the cameras focusing counter-clock wise, which means they were being operated on, because they never zoom if not asked..."_Game over._

She opens her mouth to try to say something, but he puts his hand up, asking for silence

"I'm not blaming you, here. I'm just saying... I know you didn't like not being told, and you had a really rough day. Just... give it some time, and remind yourself Agent Simmons wasn't keen on keeping you out of the loop. Go to her, say hello, hug the poor girl and do the girl things you used to do before, ok?"

She nods, knowing she had just been dismissed.

* * *

Skye is nowhere to be seen.

She had expected the cold shoulder Fitz gave her, and she was ok with it. She understood where he came from and she knows he does her, but he still wants to give her the silent treatment and she will accept that. She deserves it. Following Director Coulson's order to not tell anyone had most definitely ruffled her feathers, but in the end, she is a subordinate and must obey, especially when the mission is that important. It also felt like a test, like Coulson was trying to see if she'd keep her mouth shut. Because she's absolutely convinced that Coulson knows Fitz or Skye wouldn't have told anybody.

She'll talk to Fitz tomorrow again, when she is a little bit more settled, because for now, she's exhausted, and she'd like to see Skye, at least, before going to bed.

And she's nowhere to be seen.

She'd gone to her bunk, knocked on the door but nobody had answered. It's only when Koenig saw her in the corridor, near the Common Room, that he had informed her that Skye was debriefing with Director Coulson. At that, she had turned back to her own bunk, because she needed to make her bed and have some things tidied up before sleeping.

She's disappointed. There's no point in denying herself this truth. She wanted to see Skye, wanted to wrap her arms around her and squeeze as tight as she could, she wanted to tuck her head into her shoulder, wanted to bask in her comforting presence and smell, wanted to just feel her all around her.

She's being denied that privilege, and she's pretty sure the debriefing is just an excuse. She'll talk to her tomorrow, she owes her some explanations.

* * *

She likes that May taught her about stealth, because she is given an unaltered view of one Jemma Simmons wandering in the corridors aimlessly, looking as if she was searching for something.

For _her_.

She had asked Koenig to tell her she was in a debrief, because she was still too raw to do anything. She hates herself for being such a coward, because as much as she's hurting, she knows Jemma is hurting too. She shakes her head. She should really say hello, at the very least, because she's being rude, and Jemma is clearly looking for her. The thing is, she could never refuse her stays in the shadow of the common room, watching as Jemma walks back to her bunk, and she decides that she needs to cut that crap.

She waits for a few minutes in the comforting silence, sitting on the floor, back to the counter of the kitchen, head tilted towards the ceiling, eyes closed. She's so tired. Tired of pretending, tired of just avoiding her because she was hurt over something they both didn't have control over.

She wants to have her in her arms. She wants to kiss her temple, have her purring at the hair pulling she will ultimately ask for. She wants to comfort her, tell her that everything is over and that she can sleep soundly for the first time in months but more importantly, even if she is still confused about what to do with the feelings she has, she just wants to have her best friend back.

Said best friend just opened the door of her bunk and was currently rummaging through bags that were brought earlier. She knows what she's got to do.

She approaches Jemma's bunk, and when she is 2 feet way from it, she leans against the solid bricks of the wall, feeling the roughness of them, pushing into her back. It's a welcome reminder that this is real, that it's not another dream, that Jemma is finally back.

She takes a deep breath and cranes her head around the wall to look into the bunk. she can't stop the smile that she feels tugging at her lips

It's like a blow to the head, a breath of fresh air in a saturated atmosphere, the sun coming up after a long cloudy winter _'how incredibly corny of me, thank God nobody can hear me',_ because there she is, muttering to herself, trying to get all of her clothes out of a ginormous bag. She hears a "Bloody hell", but it's the next curse that has her making her presence known a little earlier than she would have liked.

She can't stop it, she cackles.

* * *

She hears a guffaw.

Before she can even turn her head to the door, she hears her, terrible accent and soft voice.

"_Queen's tits_? Really, Jemma? Such language! that is very unbecoming of a model british citizen". She turns around, but not before taking a deep breath to steady herself.

Skye is leaning on the door frame, her arms crossed at her chest, a devious smirk tugging at her lips. She's never looked sexier than this - and that is saying something -, all lean and dangerous and so quintessentially Skye... Before she can process anything, she sees her dropping the smirk in favour of a sweet, almost shy, smile

"Hi, Jemma".


	5. Home

AN : thank you for reading! Don't hesitate to review, it's always very much appreciated

* * *

She's leaning against that damn doorframe and the tiny woman in front of her seems to be frozen.

_Silence. _

"Hello, Skye".

She wants to cry, because she's there, in front of her, 3 feet away, in the flesh, with that gentle voice and familiar accent. She feels a tug in her heart, and for a second she doesn't remember why she is so hurt. At that very moment, Jemma is the mirage and she's the parched desert explorer looking for her oasis. But it's real. It's raw. She can see the uncertainty in Simmons' posture : back ramrod rigid, hands in front of her, wriggling nervously. Looking down, Skye sees Jemma's feet taping nervously on the floor, slowly rocking on her heels, as if she was going to bolt at any second, in her arms, or out of this bunk that is making them alarmingly claustrophobic.

What undoes her is the tone of her voice. It's ladden with subtext, which is not something she wants to analyze this second, and all she wants is to forget all about what happened.

But she can't.

Not yet.

* * *

She's unsure about how to proceed. Her first instinct is to march into Skye's arms but with the way her body is angled, it's more than likely that a hug is out of the question. She must be angry, still. Of course. She knows what's coming. With a resigned sigh and a shaky hand pushing the strand of hair that was obscuring her vision behind her ear, she looks down at her feet, and after taking a steady breath to give herself some confidence, she looks back up, right into her eyes.

"I... You look great Skye, it's so good to see you".

"It's been a while, yeah, and you in the flesh instead of you being in the fuckin middle of my rifle's crosshairs, it's a welcome development". She hears the bite in Skye's voice.

They're both silent, not knowing what to do next. It's like they are strangers all over again when she wants nothing more than to bury her nose in her hair, to have her hand running up and down her back soothingly, just like she used to do to her when she'd have a rough day at the Lab. She needs them to talk about it. They cannot stay in this statu quo of hurt feelings and incomprehension at what went down.

"Are you tired?" Skye makes a face, frowning at the unusual request. She sighs.

"I'm not... I'm way too wired to go back to sleep, actually. Why?"

"I was wondering if we could talk, please?" She hopes she says yes.

"What is there to talk about, Jemma?" She feels the anger mounting inside of her at this, and she tightens her arms around her chest.

"Don't play dumb, Skye". The second the words are out of her mouth, she knows she's about to regret it, if only by the look Skye is giving her, half-disbelieving, half-fuming.

* * *

"Oh, dumb? Are we talking about who's playing dumb now? Because correct me if I'm wrong, but remind me again who made the dumbest decision of a fuckin lifetime and didn't even bother to inform her best friends that she might end up dead in a HYDRA facility and that instead of a proper hug goodbye before her mission, she flew like a freakin bat? You mean _that_ kind of dumb?"

She's breathing heavily, voice having increased in volume and tenseness as the words were out of her mouth. She can't believe how fast she managed to get so wound up, how easily the anger came to her, and how relieved she was to finally fuckin express herself and tell her, face to face, her eyes staring straight into hers that yes, she is fuckin pissed and absolutely 100% not okay with how things were handled.

Jemma is playing dirty, though, and it's hard for Skye to remain completely angry at her when she is looking into her big, soulful amber eyes filled with tears, brimming at the edge of her eyelids. _'That's fuckin unfair to look so damn beautiful, I should be angry and not charmed off my pants'_ . The brit bites down on her lower lip to make the quiver - that Skye still catches - stop, and nods to herself.

"I guess I deserved that. Can we still talk, though? I couldn't bear going to sleep tonight knowing that I haven't explained my side of the mission properly to you." She's looking at her with hopeful eyes, trying to milk how adorable she looks when she's being deferent and shy. _'She's got game, I'll give her that'._

"You do realize that you can't always use the adorableness factor to rope people into serious conversations, right?".

"Did it work, though?".

"Don't be coy".

"In all seriousness, I'd appreciate it if we could talk, because I hate the way we parted, and I want to dispel any absurd notion I'm sure you have already worked into your brain about how I didn't trust you with the information of my...adventure at HYDRA".

"Adventure? is that what the kids call it these days?".

"Better calling it an adventure than a bloody-sodding-mission-from-Hell, I guess."

"Yeah... Fair enough...so... where do you want us..." she trails there, shrugging and looking around, not really knowing what they are supposed to do.

* * *

She clenches her jaw, willing words to stay put, because if it were just her, she'd say that she wants them in her bed, celebrating her return - and not with a tv marathon- but she wisely holds her tongue because that is a whole another can of beans she is not prepared to open.

"Do you think the Common Room is empty at this hour? I'd kill for a cup of tea, and I'm pretty sure there must my secret stash of verbena and mint you like so much somewhere...I mean, I'm sorry I'm making assumptions here, you can have whatever you want, I'm being overbearing, it's...I'm sorry Skye".

"...And miss watching you cosplay as a much, _much_ better looking Professor Snape and turning tea making into a lecture about tea temperature? Not a chance..."

"Watch it".

She awkwardly steps out of her bunk, getting much closer to Skye that she'd been before. The younger woman is resolutely not looking at her, eyes locked on the floor, and is picking at a loose thread on her pants. _'Fair enough'_, she thinks.

While Skye leads them towards the Common Room, even though she seems to forget that before leaving, Jemma had _lived_ there with them, and knows where the common room is, she allows her thoughts to wander and take a life of their own. Unsurprisingly, her gaze falls on Skye, walking just a feet in front of her, as if she couldn't bear walking at her side. More specifically, her gaze falls on Skye's perfectly formed posterior.

She knows she shouldn't look at her friend like that, but if anyone is expecting her to look at the bricks and pipes lining up the walls, while this scrumptious piece of anatomy is swaying in from of her eyes, well, they've got another thing coming. She blushes slightly because she does sound, even to herself, like a teenage hormonal boy, but she's a woman, one that can control the lust that's currently overflowing her brain, despite the obvious distraction. She chides herself for even allowing herself to think about it when she knows it's perfectly pointless. Skye is her best friend, and she is, most likely, and as evidenced by her past crush on Ward, straight.

_'But daaaaamn', _she thinks. She never thought Trip's catchphrase would so adequately capture the feeling.

She shakes her head in an effort to divert from this treacherous path and refocuses on the conversation they are going to have in a few minutes.

* * *

She doesn't know what to expect of the conversation. It's very much Jemma, in a way, to ask for a talk right away, but it's still something she wouldn't have expected her to do so quickly. She hears her trailing behind her, feet catching on the floor, betraying her extreme exhaustion, because her steps are usually so much lighter - not that she had previously learned to recognize her footsteps. She wonders why she can't just walk by her side, but, if she's being real and honest with hersef, she knows why : she can't let her feelings get in the way and having her so close after all these months is like opium. She knows once she'll get a fix, she'll never stop wanting more. So she keeps her distance, for now.

The common room is thankfully empty. The clock on the wall indicates 1.23 AM. They must be the last ones still up, except maybe for agents on a mission. Skye doesn't even have the time to sit that Jemma is already moving around the kitchen, opening drawers left and right, looking for something. She growls suddenly, hands thrown up in in obvious frustration. Skye watches as a look of confusion and sadness washes over her face.

"Need help, Simmons?"

"I... do you know by any chance if anyone moved my stash of tea and infusion leaves? I can't find it anywhere and I can't drink Leopold's tea of choice, it's appalling and does not deserve to be labelled as anything-tea.. It's more like a taste bud annihilator... Anyway I'm rambling... I just really want a cuppa and.." She's standing in front of the cabinets now, back turned to her, hands gripping the edge of the counter, head bowed down in defeat. There's no mistaking the slight shake in her shoulders.

In a second, she's next to her and she can see the trail of tears that had started to fall.

Skye gently puts her hand on her shoulder. She doesn't have the strenght to look into her eyes, though, not yet, not when the woman in front of her is so vulnerable, so she keeps her eyes trained on her hand. With a gentleness that brings tears to her own eyes, she slides it along the length of Jemma's arm, ghosting the tip of her fingers over well defined biceps, forearm, and with extreme caution, she finally reaches her wrist. With a tenderness she doesn't even know she possessed, she turns the brit's hand over, tracing the lines inside the palm. Despite the shakiness of both their hands -_'Must be nerves_', she looks down and intertwines their fingers. She doesn't want to focus on the goosebumps on her skin, she doesn't want to acknowledge the sense of belonging so strong she feels like taking a step back, and she most definitely doesn't think about the fact that their hands, palm to palm, seem to fit together so seamlessly. She doesn't.

That gesture, in the moment, is a peace offering, meant to show Jemma that she's there, even if she's hurt, and that she's her best friend first and foremost.

She needs to bring levity to the moment because a wave of something that shall not be named is taking over them - she knows Simmons can feel it too, because she's breathing heavily through her nose, something that she usually does when she's overwhelmed. Jemma finally turns fully to face her, and is looking at their joined hands, with a look of extreme concentration, as if she were trying to crack a complex riddle. And _that_, Skye knows, is not something she will allow her to do at the moment, because it only means trouble. She hopes she can break her out of her reverie.

"I knew you were a Darjeeling loyalist, but don't you think this is taking it a little too far? I mean I would understand tears over boiling water on green tea leaves, because you did tell me it is a big no-no in the tea world, but this is a bit extreme, don't you think?"

She sees the smile blossoming on Jemma's face, a giggle passing through her lips and for a second, nothing exists outside of this moment. They are just them, holding each other's hand, accepting that they are both suffering but trying to make it better anyway, because in the end, they matter to each other - '_More than words can say_' she thinks.

Jemma's free hand comes up to her hair, pushing a rebel strand behind her ear, and she is captivated, once again, by the way this new haircut highlights how regal and long and so fuckin perfect her neck is. _'Unfair'_

She's jolted out of her thoughts by a pained whisper.

"I'm just so bloody tired, Skye".

She's about to shut down. Skye recognizes the physical signs and the tone of her voice, these were the same signs that she had witnessed at the worst of Fitz' coma phase, when Jemma would refuse to go to sleep and would collapse in Fitz's med pod, on the ratty couch.

"Ok, you know what? Here is what we are going to do. I'm walking you back to your bunk right now and we'll talk tomorrow, I promise. Find me anytime you want and I'll be happy to make you some tea myself with the stash you had hidden behind the horrible cereals nobody eat, you know, the one with the raisins." She sees her opening her mouth in confusion, but she holds up her hand to stop her.

"Don't worry I kept it in my bunk the whole time you were gone because Koenig went on a cleaning rampage and almost threw it out. I couldn't risk world war 3... I've got your back, _babe_".

The teasing term of endearment is out of her mouth and that's when she knows they will be ok.

Not even a second later, Jemma throws herself into her arms and she's invaded by _her_.

* * *

She just can't stop herself anymore. She had tried keeping her hands busy when Skye had barged into her bunk unannounced, she had tried making some tea for them, she had tried it all.

When she finally calls her _babe_, knowing that it's their running joke, and that it is an olive branch of sort, she realizes they are going to be ok, even if they still need to talk, at the very least. That knowledge pushes her over the edge and before she's even aware of what she's really doing, she's in her arms. Well, not really. Skye feels shell shocked against her, and has her arms still at her side, hanging, as if they were waiting for an instruction. She wastes no time in tergiversation, and she tucks her head in her shoulder, where neck meets collarbone, and breathes her in, arms tightly wrapped around her neck, one hand buried in her newly chopped off mane and the other splayed on her back.

She feels Skye's chest expanding, lungs inflating to take in some air, and she hears the ragged breath the younger woman is taking.

Ever so slowly, Skye repositions her body so that the taller woman is wrapping her arms around her waist, hand caressing her back in slow, soothing movements.

Before she can get too comfortable, though Skye disentangles herself from the embrace. She's disappointed, but still grateful she didn't reject the embrace.

"Listen, Jemma, I don't want to sound like a total bitch but we really should head back to the bunks, and get you settled, alright?".

Skye is right. She is absolutely exhausted and having what will be an emotionally taxing conversation with her best friend is really not something she's looking forward to. This time, Jemma notes, Skye walks next to her, and as if she were reading her thoughts _'which is scientifically absurd and impossible'_, Skye turns her head to look at her and smiles. A timid, apprehensive smile, but a smile nonetheless. She feels the adrenaline completely wearing off, and before she knows it, she's yawning and dangerously dragging her feet to get to her bunk.

"Yes, you are right, I'm dead on my feet." She runs a hand over her face "God, I must look terrible". She says that last part as an afterthought, under her breath, not expecting anything, really, just vocalizing her thoughts. Skye stops walking suddenly and she wonders what's going on. She looks up to her left, 2 feet behind, where Skye was still rooted to her spot, and frowns, waiting for her to say what was on her mind. As quickly as she had stopped, Skye resumes walking, and when she passes her, she hangs her head low, resolutely looking at the floor, and not in her eyes as if she were embarrassed _'That's odd'._

Then she hears it.

"You don't. You've never looked more beautiful, Jemma".

Jemma's heart skips a beat and she's the one who can't move. It's not what she said that made her stop in her tracks, because they'd complimented each other countless times, but there is something in Skye's voice that sends her reeling. There's a warmth, almost a longing that send a jolt all over her. She shakes her head, carefully storing that moment in her memory, for her to examine and analyze _ad nauseam_ when she'll be alone. Catching up with Skye is easy because she had started walking slower to accomodate her severely lacking motor skills. When she's at her level, she keeps on walking, trying to diffuse the mood that has set over them, and bumps her shoulder into Skye's, eyes laughing up at her.

"You big dork".

"Well, what can I say, I have a soft spot for british scientists with awesome accents". She is aware Skye is keeping it light and funny. She can also read between the lines of her conscious use of the plural. They both know Skye meant just herself but gave herself an out. This was way too personal and deep for a conversation in a corridor at almost 2AM.

They walk back together to her bunk, and when they reach her lair, Skye rocks back on her heels, lips caught between her lips, eyes locked on Jemma's door as if she was trying to keep quiet.

"There we are... Skye.. I... thank you for tonight, and I'm most definitely taking you up on your offer for tomorrow, we need to talk, I want my best friend back, fully back. I hate that we are both obviously hurting because of something out of our control, and I want to explain everything so there is nothing left unsaid between us"

_'If she only knew'_ She thinks. Jemma ventures the amount of unsaid on her part could possibly open the Hell Mouth and swallow her whole. But that's her problem. She's the one who needs to sort out her messy feelings, not Skye.

* * *

_'Good luck with that'._ She almost snorted out loud at Jemma, but she's pretty sure that's not being subtle. But there is so much unsaid between them. She shakes herself off mentally because no, there is nothing unsaid between them, there is just a cluster-fuck of complicated and unrequited feelings she arbors for Jemma, and there is no fuckin way she's discussing any of them in the future, after all, there is no reason to, they are best friends and nothing else.

_'Liar'._

She sighs. They are at a standstill, in front of Jemma's bunk. Selfishly, she'd like nothing more than taking her hand and climbing into bed with her for a cuddle session, just like they used to before. She's not sure she can handle it now, though, because of all the confusing feelings swarming in her brains. She's not sure she would be able to just run her fingers through her now shortened hair, without having the urge to bend down and get drunk on her scent.

She opens the door for Jemma and gestures inside, small smile on her lips.

"Milady..."

"Terrible accent, Skye. I see some things never change.".

Jemma smiles up at her, and when she has her within arms' reach, crossing the threshold to her bunk, she can't help herself.

"Jemma?" She hates how vulnerable she sounds.

"Yes, Skye?". She's relieved she hears the same vulnerability in her voice.

She's a foot away, and before she can stop herself, she reaches for one of her delicate little hand, tugging Jemma closer to her, close enough to see all the freckles adorning the bridge of her nose and see curious amber eyes staring right back. She lets out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding in, and with a tug in her heart and tears brimming in her eyes, she brings Jemma's knuckles to her mouth and kiss them gently, her mouth lingering over the smooth skin for a little bit longer than what it really should. She hates this display of weakness but it's been months since she last saw her.

"I'm just so fuckin happy you're back". She shakes her heads, her bangs dancing above her eyes. "Don't mind me, I'm being emotional... I'll leave you to your stuff and please, come find me whenever you want, ok? Even if it's in the dead of the night. You know where my swanky suite is, right? 'Night, Jemma".

She takes a step back, turning away to take her leave but a hand on her elbow stops her.

* * *

She's in a state of complete sensory overload, because of the affection Skye is exhibiting. It's been months since she's had meaningful human interaction, so when the taller woman turns back to leave, after what one can only describe as a blitzkrieg of tenderness, she lets herself acting on her needs.

She stops her, a hand at her elbow.

When Jemma turns her around, she sees the questioning look in the younger woman's eyes. She doesn't want to scare her or push past any boundaries, but it's not like they haven't done that countless times before.

She reaches up, hand lingering for an instant over Skye's cheek, hovering mere inches above her, and before she can second-guess herself, she caresses the porcelain skin under her fingers. She's left breathless when Skye responds in kind, closing her eyes in what looks like contentment, tilting her face into her hand. She's blown away when Skye turns her head into her palm, laying a whisper of a kiss on the skin she can find there. She is going to do something rash, she can feel herself unraveling and she has to put a stop to this.

She's the one taking a step back, which is startling in its own right, but at this very second she doesn't trust herself to not do something that would most definitely and most vividly give away what she really thinks about it all. She can see Skye is shaken too, but it's perfectly understandable, because from what she heard around the base, Skye had finally met her genitor, and he was bad news. Time to bid her goodbye, then. They need their rest.

"Goodnight Skye". She whispers.

She closes the door behind her, not chancing a look at the woman who makes her heart sing and her body burn. Releasing a sigh she hadn't be aware she was holding in, she throws herself on her bed.

She's out cold for the night.

* * *

The second the door closes, she releases a shaky breath. A light flickers above her. The lull of the machinery all around the base calms her down.

She knows she shouldn't let herself go like she did, but Jemma proves to be her ultimate challenge and weakness. What kills her is how one second they are acting like any normal best friends do, and the next, lingering touches and searching eyes fuck her mind right up. She is unsure if tonight's gestures, which felt incredibly intimate, were just a byproduct of missing each other for months or if they were an indicator that something else was shimmering, just under the surface.

She can't afford to think about it, though, because as much as she'd like nothing more than entertain Jemma with her smart tongue - and she's not talking about her sharp wit she displays when commenting Doctor Who reruns they watch together -, she's also keenly aware that there is a 99% chance that this is complete fabrication of her mind. The fact that she missed her friend and confidante for so long must be temporarily magnifying all of her feelings and making them into what they aren't, she figures.

_'I'd still fuck her in a heartbeat if asked, though'. _She is exasperated at her own crass-ness but she chalks it up to complete exhaustion.

_'Yeah, right'._

She finally falls asleep the second her head touches her pillow. She dreams of amber eyes and absolutes.

* * *

There is not need to postpone the talk. She's a do-er, has always been a do-er and she is not letting this go because she might be anxious about how Skye is going to accept her explanation. The darkness of the night and the emotions running high after her return had not been the perfect setting for adult conversations, and most definitely not for that specific conversation. The younger woman had been wise to force her into sleep, even if said sleep had been elusive in the early light of the day. She had foregone her workout session this morning, preferring to channel all energy into what she was going to say to Skye.

There is no denying that yesterday's gestures and words had been encouraging, and she could certainly predict that they will move past this whole undercover thing, but the biggest huddle is that talk. She's half-afraid she's going to get yelled at, especially since Skye can be as tempestuous as hurricanes - strong, devastating and unstoppable - but she's also half-afraid of getting the silent treatment, the same one Fitz was currently bestowing on her.

She'd take the hurricane any day.

She finds her in the comms room, as she had predicted. She look at her from behind the glass panel, wondering how to bring things up. Skye is obviously perusing at something, and typing at lightning speed.

"You know, I won't bite, Jemma, you can most definitely come inside" She's startled out of her observation by a smirking Skye, swiveling on her chair.

"I didn't want to make you stop what you were doing, I know I get angry when I'm interrupted mid-experiment, so...".

Skye gestures at the screen before her "I actually saw you approaching with the videofeed, so I knew you were there". She nods dutifully and runs a hand through her hair

"Oh, ok, good, good". She's suddenly tongue-tied. Skye seems, on the contrary, quite loquacious this morning. She has a pensive look for a second then she opens her mouth.

"You know, you look different, Simmons, gotta hand it to you, HYDRA did a number on you".

"Oh..." She's not sure how to respond to that.

Skye understands her confusion "Not bad different, mind you, you could never look bad, but just...different". She sees Skye frowning at herself, as if the words tasted weird in her mouth.

"It's the hair" She sends her a shy smile and the younger woman responds in kind.

"No, it's...you acquired a swagger, Jemma Simmons, and it's really cool! You have hardened muscles, I can tell, and you definitely look edgier than before. I like it... " If she were none the wiser, she could almost say that Skye was flirting with her.

"I guess running for you life and not sleeping much for months will do that to one person". The mood darkens instantly.

"Yeah, I guessed as much. Too much anxiety?" Skye asks, brows furrowed.

"Yes... I had terrible bouts of anxiety and panic attacks, especially at the beginning, being so far away from the team, from you and Leopold, with zero contact, by order of ... Director Coulson... It was challenging... And eye-opening, on multiple levels. I'm planning on upping my fitness regimen once I get settled, I don't want to be an hindrance again and rely on people to save my posterior when I can try to do it myself".

"I get that...So... I guess you're here for the talk?" Skye holds up her hands in the air to mime quotation marks.

"I am. Are you terribly busy right now, or can I just go full steam ahead with my logorrhea?".

"You wish is my command". Skye stands up from the chair she was seated on to move across the room to the huge couch pushed against the wall. "Come on, we'll be more comfortable here".

Jemma feels the knot in her stomach getting looser as Skye takes off her shoes and sit cross legged on the couch, her back to the armrest, waiting for her to sit and start talking. So she does. She mirrors Skye's position, and she ploughs on.

"Skye, I..." She sighs, and takes a deep breath. She can't waver now, she has to spit everything out.

"See, I had this whole speech planned, and it was a mix of what you would expect me to say, rationalizing everything, and shouldering it all. Truth is, I can't do that and pretend these past months haven't changed the way I see things a little bit. You know _me_. It's not a vague figure of speech, it's not vain compliment, it's the truth. You know the truth of me, you know what makes me tick, you know what makes my skin crawl, you know what makes me happy, you know everything I went through, you know me. I haven't had anyone in my entire life, except for the dumb scot prat in this building, knowing me as extensively, as accurately and as truly as you do. That's why I figure that you must know, within yourself, that I would never, _ever_, abandon you."

She sees Skye opening her mouth but she holds up her hand, halting her in her retort

"Please don't interrupt me or I might lose the courage to have it all in the open."

"I'm sorry, go ahead"

"As I was saying, you know me, and do you know how long your parting words, the argument we had, resonated in my mind for? Weeks. I can still quote you, word for word. I knew, when Director Coulson gave me the assignment that I was going to upset you. I knew it. Coulson and I talked about it at length, trust me, I didn't go in blindfolded, after all, I like to be prepared. When he told me I couldn't tell you both, you wouldn't believe how upset I was. I was devastated because I knew you would never accept that I was just leaving, especially not when Fitz was still in limbo, therapy wise, and you were still shaken by all that happened to us. I knew you'd be upset but..."

"Yeah but Jemma, when we went behind Coulson's back when Fitz and Ward were on their suicide mission, you did bend the rule, we did bend the rule. I'm just upset, I guess, because I feel like you didn't trust me enough to keep it to myself. I wouldn't even have told Fitz, for fuck's sake."

"I don't believe that for a second".

"Well, yeah, I would have told Fitz, but that's it, it's because we are your..."

"...your what, Skye?"

"We are... Leopold and Skye, I guess, your closest prats".

She can't squash the adoring smile on her face.

"You really are, but the point is, when we did go against Coulson's order, it was still contained within SHIELD, even if it was already infiltrated by HYDRA, the knowledge we seeked was not dangerous, per say. It was just compartmentalized. With this mission, another organization was involved, one that is not particularly fond of spies. The truth is : I trust you with my life, Skye. But in this case, it wasn't enough. Suppose a HYDRA agent somehow kidnaps you and forces you to spill intel to them? you'd be powerless to stop it".

"But Coulson said truth serums don't exist..."

"Oh please, and you believed him? Anyway, you know that I pride myself in being useful. I like being useful, I like being used for my skills and being appreciated for them. God knows I've worked hard enough to get where we are today. So when Coulson told me that I couldn't tell you, I exploded at him, and used some... pretty strong words to voice my opinion, but as we talked through it, I could see his point. In not telling you, I was protecting you. Because you would never be targeted for knowing a secret, and you'd be safe. I do acknowledge a flaw in my reasoning in that you can still be captured by HYDRA even if you do not know anything, but it's an additional factor I wasn't ready to see stacked on you."

"Jemma, this is bullshit, I'm sorry but... the worst part is that I get part of your explanation but the other part of me is just still in disbelief that you are there, in front of me, and not in one of these blasted black body bags, where they put the dead people inside. When May was on comms and said you were on that ship, and Coulson asked to maintain your cover, do you even know what it felt like? It felt like a knife was plunged into in my heart."

"Skye, I..."

"No, no, you don't get to rationalize that. It was a stab in my heart because one of the most important person in my life had not trusted me with that vital information. Put you in my shoes for a second. How would you have felt?"

"Betrayed".

"There you go". Skye's tone is implacable.

* * *

The worst of it all is that she gets where Jemma comes from, in terms of keeping it all a secret.

"I know I'm not Fitz and I know we haven't been friends for that many years, but Jemma, you are my best friend, and..."

"What are you on about, Skye, you are my best friend too, not just Fitz, and please don't compare what we have to what I have with Leopold, it's not the same".

She chuckles.

"Did you know that when I first joined the team I thought you guys were a thing? I honestly did, and it's only after a couple of weeks with you, watching you interact with him that I understood that he would never be enough for you. I know it's a dick thing to say, but yeah, he wouldn't give you what you need, and anyway, you guys are so tight that I never dreamed we'd even get to the point we did in our friendship, Jemma. I never used to open up as much as I do with you, and I'm pretty sure it's the same for you".

"I know, it took me by surprise too, considering how pathologically awful I am at making deep connections with people".

"I like to think you are hard to please and are just very picky about the persons you let in and...you did let me in, making me trustworthy, in your eyes, right? and yet, you didn't tell me anything on what might have been the most ridiculously dangerous mission ever, and I guess that's what hurts the most". She can't tone down the sadness in her voice.

"I honestly don't know what to tell you, Skye, I'm just... I am used to think with proficiency first on my mind. I'm trained to think proficiently. In that case, this was very much different than when we went behind Coulson's back, at least in my mind, because I couldn't involve you and Fitz and have you two worried about my well-being. At that time, that logic was soundproof."

"If you had to do it all over again, would you?" She already knows the answer to that one.

"Lie to you or go back undercover?"

"Both, I guess"

"I think the undercover work was not for naught, because the intel I gathered contains a significant amount of scientific data and experiments they are running, which will be of tremendous help for us, but... You know, I wish I could tell you with absolute certainty that I would tell you all about it in a heartbeat, but I'm not sure I can."

"Jemma..." Yup, she knew she would still be a self sacrificing idiot.

"It's logic, Skye. It's who I am. It's rational thinking and strategic planning to ensure we are all safe. As much as I felt my heart being torn to pieces when you gave me that parody of a smile when I left, in that blasted landing bay, I would never have forgiven myself if word somehow got out about what I was doing and HYDRA would have started targeting you or Fitz, like I already told you. It may seem heartless or overly clinical, or whatever, and i get that, but it's an approach I am comfortable with, because it means keeping you safe."

"But we could have kept you safer, had we known about it". Skye is adamant they could have worked something out.

"Skye, I'm not sure about what you want me to tell you... I didn't tell you anything, but I didn't tell anything to Fitz either. I'm... at a loss about what to tell you anymore, I guess..." Jemma is wriggling with her fingers again, clearly upset but non-apologetic about what was said.

"I was so hurt, Jemma. I mean, I know it's childish but do you know how much it hurt to learn about you being undercover during a mission? Over comms? Like it's not a fuckin big deal? When I asked May later on if she knew, I wasn't surprised she did, I was just disappointed I hadn't been let on it when it was you, over there. I mean, the team knows how close we are and the team - or at least DC and May - know enough about my family history to not have me thinking about how another person I love just left me behind without a good reason or explanation and..."

She's cut short by an armful of Jemma Simmons.

* * *

Of course that's where the problem lies. How had she missed it. _'I'm so dumb'. _She does the only thing she can to keep her from talking, and launches herself into her arms. It does work, as Skye stops talking altogether and tucks her head into Jemma's neck. After a few seconds of blissful silence, she pulls back and look right into Skye's eyes

"I'm so sorry this is what you thought, I mean, you know I love you, right, and that I would never willingly leave you in the dust. Like I told you, I just did what i thought was the good thing. I absolutely did not factor in what you just told me, though, and I feel terrible about it, because of course I should have known you'd think I'd abandon you, considering your history in foster families. I'm truly sorry Skye, that past occurrences lead you to believe that you are anything but extraordinary and worthy of absolute care and devotion. Because you are and I can't imagine my life without you in it now, and..." She tries to swallow the knot that is in her throat and after a few calming breaths, she does.

"Oh come on, you tiny thing, don't make me cry, please". she can see Skye swallowing hard, which leads her to think that the teasing remark is not that far off the truth.

"It's true, though. I don't think I ever told you this, but when you got shot and were unconscious, in that med pod, Trip came to me and point blank asked me, well, more like asserted, that, and I quote 'couldn't imagine my life without you', and I acquiesced, all these months ago, so please don't ever think you're worthless or worthy of being abandoned."

"I don't really know what to say". Skye is pulling at a thread on her hoodie, looking at her lap and Jemma can swear her eyes are shining with unshed tears.

"There is nothing to say, it just meant that months ago, I believed it, and you know I cannot lie, and I even mentioned to Trip how odd it was because we were polar opposites, really, but we just clicked, and what was true months ago is even truer now, with all we've been through, and I hate myself for making you think for even a second that I could abandon you, because I hope you know that I won't."

"I know..." She nods.

"Do you, really?". She needs to make sure she understands how important that conversation is.

"I hope so... Yes, I know. I don't think I could find myself another _babe_, it's way too much work to just keep the one I have to try to break in another". She's quoting her, from that conversation they had had months ago in Fitz' pod, and she's amazed. When she looks back at her face, Jemma finds herself beaming.

"Please accept my explanations for the mission and my apology for being callous, Skye, I truly thought what I did was the best for us all, and never intended to cause you any pain or worry when it's the last thing I want to do. I just want us back, Babe and all, to my abysmal dismay"

"Oh, you mean you don't want to keep me around just for your hair massages needs?"

"You really are terrible, you know...". She's shaking her head at Skye, who's having a giggle fit. She sobers quickly, and without any trace of teasing, she delivers the fatal blow.

"But you love me anyway". Jemma looks at her, on the other side of the couch, and her heart skips a beat. '_Again_'. She shakes her head at her antics, and smiles. It feels good to smile, a real smile, not obscured or tainted by worries or anxiety. she feels lighter.

"I do. So, are we good?"

"I would even say we are fantastic, Miss Simmons, and I'm sure you'll fully appreciate the effort I made by quoting your favorite Doctor. But yes, we are."


	6. Hinge

Everything was different now.

The conversation they had earlier that day, the physical reassurance that they were both alright despite the circumstances, had really made the trick. The strong words Jemma had used to make her understand that she hadn't abandoned them - that she hadn't abandoned _her -_ and that she had virtually no choice in the non-disclosure policy DC asked her to enforce, had brought peace to her restless mind.

She was still hunched over the checklist of verifications and improvements she wanted to make on the video feed system when it occurred to her that while Jemma had explained everything and actually apologized to her for everything, she hadn't said anything. She frowns and before she knows it, she's headed towards the Lab.

It's not that she had anything to truly apologize for, but she did scream at Jemma before she left. _'Well, I have a temper'. _

The Lab is empty, save for Fitz.

"Good day to you, Agent Fitzy". She can't resist a little jest to her favorite scot.

"You know, I'm not sure which one is worse coming from you : Leopold or Fitzy". He shakes his head, obviously done with her antics.

"Come on, you know you secretly like Leopold".

"I don't. Jemma has taken on this crusade since we met, like she says it's a disgrace and I quote _'utmost disrespect to the choice made by me parents upon my birth_' and you know how she is, for someone so tiny she's deceptively stubborn and forceful". She smiles at that, charmed despite his current anger at his friend.

"That does sound like the Jemma we know and love. Speaking of which, did you guys talk? I know you're still pissed, Fitz, but you've got to cut her some slack, right? I mean, she came back, and there was a good reason for her leaving". She's grasping at technicalities, but she really wants everyone to be finally ok and move on. And she hates FitzSimmons being at odds. It's unnatural and needs to be over.

"What the hell, Skye? I thought you were even more pissed than I was and here you are defending her. Did you talk to her?"

"Actually I did. She came to me upon arrival, after you apparently gave her a brush off and asked for a talk. we were way too exhausted and ended talking this morning... I... I was so pissed, Fitz, I don't need to remind you, I mean, you saw it, but there she was with her perfectly sound and logical explanations and goddamn tears in her eyes, and I just couldn't stay mad. I hate it when you guys hold your adorableness against me, it's just not fair." She shrugs and looks helplessly at him.

"What adorableness?". He looks genuinely confused _'Bless this little lion'_

"You know, for someone so genius, you can be so fucking dumb, Leopold. You guys are like basic walking wet dreams for anybody with a pulse. I mean, what's not to like? Amazing intelligence, quick wit, more than adequate physical appearance, and hot accents. Of course people bend to your stupid will, you're like...". She throws her hand up in the air.

"I don't know if I should be thanking you for the seal of approval or be totally affronted?."

"You know I'm right, Dr Fitz. I can't believe you haven't made a move on the charming therapist, by the way." She's looking smugly at him, and she loves how flustered he can get, so quickly.

"That's unethical, Skye, I still need additional work on my tremors, so shut it. And since you're so hellbent on making fun of me, I have a question for you Agent Skye... you were telling me to make a move, so I'm throwing it back to you. what are you waiting for, to make your move?". That was not the silly comeback she had been expecting and it takes her aback for a few seconds before she recovers nicely. _'Too real, Fitz'_.

"What are you talking about?" She feigns ignorance.

He frowns. "I'm sure you remember the conversation we had, a few weeks ago, yeah?"

"I actually don't." She crunching her eyebrows together, hopefully convincing him.

"You do, you've got that frown-y thing going on on your face. " he waves around gesturing to her face.

"It's time I remove myself from the situation. Have you seen Jemma, by the way, I have to talk to her?". She needs a new plan.

"Oh, so you can make the move, already? so fast! I'm so proud! She's in the gym, by the way. Don't embarrass yourself too much, Skye." She wishes she could smack him, but then again, he's too cute for that _'Damn him'._

"Eat shit, Fitz."

Of course she remembers the conversation. It had started innocently enough. They had both been under the weather, lamenting the glaring absence of a third of the wonder kids trio they'd become. They had drunk themselves into the dead of the night, sitting on the floor of the common room, their backs to the couch, staunchly refusing to sit on it - their own little rebellion. Skye remembers how alcohol had loosened her tongue, and how she had called him Leopold in in the midst of a very serious conversations - turns out that when you are drunk, popcorn making techniques are a serious matter. He had casually mentionned how Jemma was completely rubbing off on her with the Leopold calling, and without thinking, her treacherous mind had chosen the worst moment to speak its truth. The truth she still wasn't ready to deal with.

'I wish'

Time stood still and Fitz, despite the drunken haze, had turned his head towards her so sharply she thought he was going to sustain permanent vertebrae damage.

'What did you say?'

She managed to somehow skirt around the issue, giggling and rolling her eyes but the look in Fitz's eyes turned calculating and a look of understanding took residence on his face, as if he had suddenly solved a very complicated problem.

'Drop it, Fitz'

And he did. He never talked about this before today, and with emotions flying high since Jemma's return, she's not sure she can handle a conversation on this particular matter. For the time being, she's happy to bathe in the denial that is now so second-nature to her. She can't do anything about it, and she doesn't even want to process the feelings she may have for the lovely scientist, because lovely scientists with ridiculous intelligence do not fall in love with their geeky friend who's only highly skilled at hacking stuff. They just don't.

_'Too bad'_ she thinks.

* * *

Her legs are getting tired. Her heartbeat is faster than usual, her stride not as fluid as it should. Her shorter hair sticking to her neck makes it increasingly uncomfortable for her to focus on anything else. She's incredibly distracted these days, and she had naively thought a good workout would have gotten her out of her funk, but she's obviously still unsettled. She pushes harder for the last few minutes of her daily run, and when she feels the lactic acid starting to irrigate her quadriceps, she knows it's time to hop off the treadmill and start strecthing before she pulls a muscle or start hurting a ligament or a meniscus. She can't afford being placed on the disabled list because she couldn't assess her own fitness, when she managed to survive in bloody Hydra without any major incident.

Carefully slowing down to a walking pace, she reaches for the towel she had positionned on the treadmill next to hers, only to find herself staring into Melinda May's eyes. She's one nanosecond away from a heart attack.

"Oh Lord, you gave me quite a scare, Agent May. I think my heart is this close to beating out of my chest" She's clutching at her chest to will her heart into a slower rythm, but the jump she made when she turned around was testament enough to the ninja skills of the older woman.

"I'm sorry, Agent Simmons, I didn't mean to scare you, I thought you were finished with your work out". She's still breathing heavily from the exertion and the scare.

"I was, I mean, I am. Bloody hell, pardon my language but I shouldn't have let my guard down, I know better".

"I should have known better, especially with the circumstances of your return. I don't ever want you to feel threatened or on edge here, at home base." May is willing to overlook her lack of focus and she's thankful she doesn't get a lecture about constant vigilance.

"Thank you Agent May, it means a lot." She knows she wouldn't have lasted long if it weren't for May's pointers and tips on undercover work during the transit to Delaware.

"It's my job to ensure your protection.". A simple nod, acknowledging her thanks.

"Still, it's very much appreciated, I just... "

"Speaking of which, and this is why I'm actually here, I wanted to know if you were still doing Tai-Chi in the mornings? I know you've taken quite a liking to it".

"I am, and I'm forever grateful you introduced me to it, it helped tremendously when I was having bad panic attacks, really helped regaining focus". It's true, Tai-Chi was now part of her morning routine and it fit into her early bird schedule.

"I'm glad. I'll see you tomorrow morning at 5, then." She doesn't even wait for an answer and turns back on her heels.

"You will". She calls out after her retreating form.

Agent May leaves the room as stealthily as she had come in, and when she turns back fully towards the exit, she's surprised to see Skye, leaning on the doorframe of the gym, arms crossed at her chest, wearing gym clothes and a smirk on her face. She's never wanted to kiss off a smirk that badly, but she's learned to control her urges by now, more specifically all and any urges involving Skye. She watches as may whispers something to the other agent in passing, and as discreetly as possible, while they are talking to each other and not paying attention to her, she allows her gaze to linger on her current tormentor. Long and powerful legs, feminine curves, a rack that is more than adequate _'Jemma, you're crass'_.

She hears someone clearing her throat and when she regroups, she lifts her eyes to Skye's, only to find her frown an eyebrow cocked in question.

"Are you ok, Jemma?"

"Yeah sorry, just zoned-out for a second. What can I do to help you, Skye?"

"Oh nothing, I'm actually on my way to the shooting range, and I saw you there, and since I wanted to talk to you about something, I figured now was as any good time as ever, so... you got five seconds for me?"

"You know I always have time for you. I'm listening."

"See, I remember the talk we had earlier, and I'm absolutely glad we did talk it out, Jemma, but there is one thing I haven't said yet, and I should have."

"What do you mean?". Her heart suddenly beats faster

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry, Jemma". She frowns.

"What on Earth for? you have nothing to apologize for..."

"But I do. I know I was pretty harsh with you when you left and didn't trust you to come back or not abandon me, and as much as this mission was a fuckin nightmare for you, now that we do know what went down, I shouldn't have snapped and I should have apologized for not understanding somehow that something bigger was at play"

"Skye, please. Enough with this non sense and the non-stop apologizing we seem to be so fond of doing." She's done with apologies.

"All right... Ok, so I'm gonna go shoot some shit up and I guess i'll see you later, yeah?"

"You will, we have a briefing in 2 hours if i remember correctly." She smiles gently at her, not willing to se her go, yet.

"Yeah, May just told me about it. Anyway, I'm off! If you wanna brush up on your skills, follow the banging noises."

"Well, depends on what kind of banging noises, I mean... I'm pretty sure my skills are outstanding in this area... " She finds herself sending Skye a flirty look, coupled with a perfectly timed wink. She swears Skye is blushing.

"You are terrible, Jemma Simmons."

She shakes her head, laughing at the younger woman. When Skye turns around and walks down the corridor to the shooting range, she loses the fight to keep her eyes in a safe zone, as she lets her gaze linger on her ass _'It's getting awfully familiar and increasingly reckless_'. She can't help it, she's always been weak for a perfectly formed ass, and Skye's is a masterpiece. In retrospect, she's always been partial to anything Skye, if she's being perfectly honest, at least with herself. There's been a subtle shift in their dynamic, since her return. She doesn't know if the taller woman feels it too, but there a sense of almost urgency and profund need in every interaction they have? It's as if they find themselves craving the other's presence at their side.

She knows she harbours not so platonic feelings for her best friend and she's left wondering if this new sense of awareness of the other on a more physical level is due to the length of her absence at her side and if it's the sub sequential need to reassure themselves in their survival that's driving them towards each other, or if her brains simply decided to stop living in denial and face head-on the fact that she could never see her as a one time sex partner and could only envision her as a real partner which is something she simply can't afford herself to think about. She can't afford herself the luxury of envisioning a future with her, there is too much at stake. No matter what she might feel about her.

One timers, quick romps to satisfy urges, she can do, and she does.

A loving, respectful, equal grounds longterm relationship, she wishes she could do. Especially with someone like Skye. _'No, just Skye, period'_. She has a tight reign on her emotions and feelings and as unfulfilling as this fact is, it's also what keeps her sane and grounded. She can't indulge in the pleasure of the flesh coupled with deep emotional bonding with Skye, because what would happen if something were to happen to one of them? She barely made peace with the psychological trauma the undercover job caused her, she couldn't even begin to fathom how daunting life would be if one of them were to die, leaving the other an empty shell.

Shaking her head and gathering her towel, bottle of water and phone, she turns to leave to get in the showers. Once she gets her clothes off and relaxes under the spray of the shower, she finally lets herself luxuriate in the feeling the water cascading down her body is creating. She likes taking scaldingly hot showers, and today is no different. Lathing soap on her body is a task that usually takes barely 2 minutes but today, she slows the pace.

_'It's been too long'_ she thinks.

She wants to feel the weight of her fingers on herself, she wants to relinquish absolute control to her primal needs and she's powerless to stop the unrepenting descend of her right fingers on her nipple. She can only brace her left arm on the tiles of the shower, thanking the gods for individual soundproofs cubicles, because It's been a while since she's been able to spare a couple of minutes to take care of herself, and she doesn't know if she can be quiet. Or if she really wants to be.

But now, after a workout that left her more sore than elated, she wants nothing more than to keep on feeling the water burning down her sternum, setting fire to the breasts that are currently heavy and begging for attention. She slightly pulls on a nipple, with her thumb and forefinger, while she trails the nails of the rest of her fingers, gently scraping the surface they can find. She likes to take things slow, especially when her tits are concerned, but she does have to be in the lab in a couple of minutes, and she has to be efficient.

She doesn't know when her life became all about efficiency but right now, she decides to slow the pace she was heading towards - way too fast and goal-oriented- , to anchor herself in the moment, to allow her body and soul to enjoy this fully, and not letting this become another meaningless release.

Her thoughts drift without even an effort to the one person wrecking havoc on her self-imposed celibacy. She'll be the first to admit that there's nothing sexier to her than a quick wit and sass, and Skye has them in spades. The fingers that were playing with her nipple move to the other, pulling a little rougher on it than she did at first. She exhales loudly. The arm that was keeping her at a distance is now bent at the elbow, forearm completely resting on the wall of the shower.

Her hair is getting wetter by the second and so is she.

She can feel the telltale signs of arousal ignite all over her bodies. It's evident in the way her fingers can't keep still at her nipple and resume their journey downwards. It's obvious when she pauses at her stomach, splaying her hand along her abdominal muscles, feeling them clenching at the nails she's snaking down to her sex. It is undeniable when she rakes her nails through the short patch of curls and when the tip of her fingers finally ghost over her clit. It's tangible when she coats her fingers with the wetness that had pooled at her entrance.

She has to bite down on her bottom lip when she moves her digits in broad circles around her most sensitive area because she's used to keep quiet.

Then she refocuses her mind on _her_.

The way she smiles when she makes a bad chemistry joke, as if she was only doing it to see her appalled look and dubious smile . The way she moves with such feline grace that you'd believe she's been a lethal agent all of her life, and not just a few months. The way her eyes sparkle when she swears and how much she enjoys doing it because Skye knows she doesn't like swear words.

Fingers move quicker.

The way her hair frame her face so wonderfully, enlightening her natural beauty. The way her eyes reflect how kind she is, despite more than horrible life circumstances.

Tight circles. Shallow breaths.

The way she plays with her hair when they are cuddling on her bed, catching up with the latest tv shows. The way she can light up any room she walks in. The way she constantly teases her because of how prim and proper she always appear to be _'If she only knew'._

Fire coils everywhere. A gasp.

The way her chest clings at her blouses, and how she always finds herself drawn to it. The way Skye always seems to sway her hips when she's walking just a foot before her, as if she knew she'd be looking with rapt attention.

Fingers find refuge inside her heat.

The ways she always flirts with her and lets her own eyes linger over her tits when she thinks Jemma is not looking. But she's not oblivious, she's seen the younger woman looking.

A twist of her wrist. A moan she releases into the silence of the cubicle.

The way she listens to her and always tries to understand where she's coming from, never mocking her and always making sure she is happy, because she says that's _'what best friend do, they take care of each other'_.

Slow but heavy grind of her hips unto her hand. Walls start to clench.

The ways she calls her Jemma when no one is looking, as if she were a treasure to be cherished and protected at all costs. The way she bites her lips when she's laughing at something she said, eyes lightening up with something you can't really name.

She comes.

It's fast, unrelenting, and not the slow burn she had shot for, but there it is. She's panting, under the shower, body shaking, walls still riding out the waves of her release, her fingers still engulfed inside her, and she's never been so unsure about how she should go on. There's no turning back from _that_. She knows she shouldn't have indulged, but the need was too strong.

She can't allow herself to let go anymore, though, because it will only end up in catastrophe.

She needs to get a grip, and fast, because she can't be feeling like this forever and she'd like to actually be able to spend time with the person who is, above all, her best friend, without making things weird. And she can't be 2 fingers deep inside herself and think about how she wishes these were Skye's fingers instead of hers.

She can't.

* * *

_'Argh, I'm so bad at this'._

She couldn't help herself. She had reasoned that she should have waited for Jemma to be done with her training before bothering her with her incessant yapping. But she didn't.

She had come to terms with the fact that the scientist meant more to her than just a simple friend months ago, but she was now coming to terms that despite her best efforts to keep it in best friends' specter, she was hopelessly sliding into much more dangerous territories, in waters much murkier than she'd ever wanted to waddle in. Her brains haven't caught up to the reality of what her body and heart were feeling. She knows she should just let her feelings flow freely but if she allows herself to feel, if she allows herself to simply let go, she's in for emotional and physical misery. She can deal with flashes of heat when she sees her. She can deal with bouts of lust so strong they make her trip on her own feet. She can deal with sexual frustration reaching unbearable levels, because after all, she can - and she did - take matters in her own hands, in the most literal way.

What she can't deal is the way her eyes light up when she speaks, as if she were the most intelligent, brightest person in the room. What she can't deal with is the way her hands always seems to come up to touch her at the most innocuous occasions.

She's been steadily blowing holes in all of her defenses and she's unable to stop it.

Seeing her talking with May, in her training gear had thrown her into another loop because as much as she liked Jemma Simmons in any clothing, she's not above admitting that sometimes, less is more. And in this case, she's thanking May - it had to be her - because the undercover fitness regimen had paid off in the most enticing way. The scientist had always been a beautiful woman, in a very classic and elegant kind of way, but now, she looks beautiful and edgy. There's this thing she actually told her about, that swagger so evident that she's wondering how she manages to control herself so well around her. And she's only been back for a couple of days.

To be fair, she doesn't control herself that well, and she's afraid her gaze dropped down to her exquisite breasts a few times, and she hopes Jemma didn't catch it, because even though she's a bit socially awkward, she's far from oblivious.

That parting shot about the banging noises did her in, though. It's nothing special, it's the flirting they'd always done, and it's what makes their friendship so fun and liberating. But that fun and liberating part is over, now. It seems like the tiny woman had thoroughly messed up all of her flirt game, and she doesn't know how to feel about that. Because it's her _thing_. And if this becomes Jemma's thing too, she is one hundred percent sure she will have to resign and set herself on fire because of a Simmons overload.

And that would lead to a _very_ awkward talk with DC.

Before she can walk any further towards the shooting range, she hears someone calling her name. She turns around.

"Agent Skye?". The Amazon Queen is walking to her, a huge smile on her face _'Weird'_

"Oh hello, Agent Morse, didn't hear you coming!".

"No worries! I actually wanted to meet you properly. It's nice to finally put a face on the person I've heard so much of!"

"Oh." Non committal. Rude, but efficient. She doesn't like her, and she can't quite figure out why _'LIAR'._

"Yeah, Jemma told me all about you guys". That catches her attention.

"About us?". She's wondering what Jemma told Bobbi.

"Yeah, see, the flight back from HYDRA was a long one, and there's only so much you can do. And don't get me wrong but after a while, tactical talk with Antoine was fine, but I wanted more girl talk, if you know what I mean". Bobbi is still smiling and it's making her uneasy.

"I do, even though Antoine is more than just tactical talk, I mean, he's our sunshine, that wonderful dork". She feels the need to protect and defend Trip because she doesn't like what Bobbi implied.

"Oh, I know, we did a couple of ops together back in the days, he's fantastic. I was actually more interested in Jemma because of our common background, but anyway, I'm rambling, she's awesome - you already know that - and I can't wait to work a little more in depth in the Lab again with someone of her intellectual stature." She's stuck at the awesome part and a flare of something she doesn't name takes life in her veins.

"So you're planning on staying with us?".

"I think I am. Coulson offered a permanent position here, and I don't see why I shouldn't take it and Melinda is loving it here - Don't tell her I told you that - so yeah, I might consider it..." She's not sure how she feels, because one May is fine, but add to the mix another kind of May - more sunshiny and towering above all of them - and this might be a recipe for disaster.

"Good, good, I mean, yeah, it's nice, here and you would be a great asset to our team". She's not exactly lying even if she doesn't know her yet.

"You know, and forgive me for being blunt but i'm not sure you'd react to anything less, but you're suprisingly less verbal than what I was expecting. From what Jemma told me, you are quite the sassy spitfire". She's caught. She knows she was been rude, but actually being called on it was not the most pleasant feeling. And Bobbi, so far, has done nothing to provoc this kind of behaviour on her part.

"I'm sorry Agent Morse, I..." She sighs

"Bobbi, please" Of course, she's nice too.

"I'm sorry... Bobbi... I'm usually way more well behaved than that, I'm just so freakin exhausted. Ok, let me backpedal. " She closes her eyes, shaking her hear just nought to snap her out of her funk, and when she opens them, she stucks out her hand for Bobbi to shake "Hi, I'm Skye and I've heard a lot of cool shit about you, Agent Morse". She smiles, a peace-offering to the other agent.

"Likewise" If she wasn't totally enraptured by Simmons, Skye would have smiled dumbly at the blonde, for she is honestly stunning: bright smile, kind eyes, and a fuckin great body. _'This is unfair. Beauty and Brains'. _

"Wanna come and shoot some shit up?

"Lead the way!" She hears the laugh and maybe, she thinks, maybe things won't be so bad.

* * *

She'd been in the Lab for the past couple of hours, finally feeling rested and focused.

"So, what you're telling me is that in fact, you went to Sci-Tech? Are you serious?"

"As a heart attack"

"But... how? I mean, I know how, obviously you have the necessary intellect to actually be in consideration, as you just don't barge in Sci-Tech like that."

"I do have a PhD from Georgia Tech, in Biology, Jemma... "

"Bloody hell... I've got to ask, though, you know how we feel about Operations... there's no shortage of bad blood between us, so, why the switch to the arch-nemesis?" She's genuinely curious.

"I'm gonna be honest, lab work is fun and I love the science, I love everything about building theories and seeing the practical results but all things considered, it's not as rewarding or fulfilling as field work is, for me. I do miss the physicality when I do lab work, I miss the adrenaline. And I'm not talking about the adrenaline rush you get when you discover something cool. I'm talking about actual adrenaline, which makes you think you could realistically kick Hulk's ass if needed".

"I see and that's... I can't say i understand because I'm the opposite, I mean, you saw me at HYDRA, I guess you had your eyes on me and saw first hand just how bad I am outside a lab".

"I think you're being way too harsh, don't sell yourself short, because from I saw and gathered, you blended in quite well, despite the circumstances and the very basic training...Although...I gotta tell you something, in the spirit of what happens at Hydra stays at Hydra, Dr Simmons..." She has that mischevious look on her face that spells trouble.

"Oh God... I have to say preemptively that I do not like that smug smirk on your face. Go ahead, what is the matter, Dr Morse?"

"Well, it's nothing extraordinarily important of significant to our job as SHIELD agents, but as head of security at HYDRA, you know it was my duty to monitor all of Hydra facilites under my jurisdiction, right?"

"I'm afraid I'm unable to connect the dots, here, you are going to have to give me more data, Bobbi..."

"I'm just being a good teammate and a decent human being here, mind you"

"You're stalling. You're the one who were brimming with mirth at the mere idea of shaming me for something I don't even know I apparently did while at Hydra, so get on with it..."

"Don't sass me, Miss I-can-charm-the-pants-of-literally-anyone-if-I-put-my-mind-to-it..."

"What are you on about?" She doesn't know where this is headed, but she's sure she's gonna be the butt of the joke.

"I have to give it to you, it was smart not going for the ever cliched toilets, but the janitor closet? That's downright filthy! who knew you had it in you... well, Agent Butler certainly did...have something in you, I mean..."

"yes, oh. Who knew the person everyone presented me as the resident prim and proper goody two shoes scientist was an actual casanova?!"

"I wouldn't say Casanova, per say, just... willing to do what it takes to get me where I need to be." She's not trying to sound arrogant, but she's being truthful.

"Oh, don't underestimate yourself, I was monitoring you under the guise of scanning my employees for a couple of days, and I did promise Phil I would bring you back in one piece. Anyway, I stumbled upon your little pre-mating dance at the stools... The yawning and stretching while you knew you shirt had ridden up? Now that's not amateur move. And it works every time once you lock on the target and are sure of their interest, if my own experience is to attest to this, too."

"Well, what do you want me to say? I do enjoy sex, contrary to what people around here would like to think. I needed sex, I needed pure physical release without the mess feelings always induce, and I got it. I'm not ashamed, just a bit embarrassed I didn't realize that room was also monitored. A stupid oversight on my part, that's for sure. And in the spirit of full disclosure, I _did_ consider the toilets before reminding myself that HYDRA was bloody evil and would have more than likely bugged it also."

"Don't worry, Jemma, I won't tell a soul, and I didn't watch, don't worry, I would never intrude on your privacy. As soon as I saw you guys taking off each other's shirts, and assessed that this was not a threat to you, of any kind, I cut it off, and deleted the file the day after. I must say the afterglow on your face when you left the closet was proof enough that it _was_ a friendly encounter."

"Thank you Bobbi." She's smiling, even if she's a little bit mortified.

"Oh, not intruding on your privacy aside, you do realize that I'm going to tease you forever about it, right?"

"Did you really think I was expecting anything less?" She sighs.

"I didn't. Just giving you a fair warning."

"Thank you Bobbi... I mean it."

"My pleasure... and yours, obviously"

"Argh, you really are terrible. But it really was." She's giggling now, and it feels good to be able to talk about this without being judged.

"You wound me"

"Ok, now you've got to go, you are contaminating my space and distracting me. Shoo!" She shoves the much taller woman towards the exit.

"Sure, Jemma...and don't forget, briefing in 5 minutes!"

She hears Bobbi's footsteps echoing in the empty lab until she can't anymore. She knows she's still in the lab, so that must mean she forgot something. She turns around with a frown and a questioning glance, and if the smile and the wink Bobbi send her way are any indication, she knows the teasing is starting sooner rather than later. She sighs and waits for the ax to fall on her head. She gestures to the agent to proceed with whatever atrocity is most likely going to come out of her mouth.

"By the way, Dr Simmons... _amazing_ tatoo..." She sounds both sincere and amused.

She laughs. She can't help it, she laughs. She's got to admit she's a little bit embarrassed, and wanted to keep that particular piece of information to herself - after all, only Leopold knows about it because he has one himself too - but what is done is done, and she knows that Agent Morse won't say a word.

* * *

She's on her way to the briefing, marching down the corridor after a very satisfactory shooting session with Bobbi. She realizes now how unfair and obnoxious she had been with the older agent, because after the initial stilted conversation in the hallway, she found out quickly that not only was she really fun and friendly, but she was also a freakin rockstar who offered to be her sparring partner whenever she wanted. If May's excitement upon hearing she was joining them was any indication, and if all the files she had hacked into the night before also were of any indication, Barbara Morse was a legend. Who could turn down another mentor who could kick her ass while blindfolded and tied to a chair?

She can't and she won't.

Her mood was significantly improved and she was getting to the lab to pick up Jemma for the briefing when she hears it. She turns her head to her left, looking through the glass panels that were lining up the Lab.

"By the way, Dr Simmons... amazing tatoo..."

Her blood turns cold at the remark so carelessly thrown by the fuckin Amazon Queen and when she hears Jemma's laughing, she sees red. She stops walking and watches helplessly as Bobbi exits the room, a huge grin on her face, sending a not so subtle wink to the scientist still working over her workbench. _'What the fuck?'_.

She tries to get her temper under control and squints through the glass to look at Simmons' face. She's smiling, and not just any smile. She's smiling at Bobbi the way she smiles at her. She's using what she had come to call her 'For Skye only' smile to Bobbi's attention. That's entirely not acceptable. She wants to scream, she wants to yell at Bobbi that she doesn't deserve that smile, that she fuckin has to work for it, that that smile is only hers and that she had to peel off layers after layers of the Simmons onion to get to a place where the brit was comfortable to confess her utmost fears, to talk to her for _real_ and let go of her self imposed self-control.

She shouldn't feel jealous of a smile, but there she is. Hoping that Bobbi would implode before her, because _How dare she_.

She shakes her head as Bobbi approaches her in the corridor, smile still etched on her face, strut in full effect.

"Hey Skye! Came to pick up our lovely scientist for the briefing? Because I did try, but this one is more stubborn than a mule when it comes to finishing up whatever thing she has going"

"Yeah, well, I'll try! See you in a few". She keeps the interaction to a minimum, because she can only fake smile for so long. And Bobbi is a seasoned spy who most likely has already seen through her charade but was polite enough to not call her out on it. Taking a deep breath, she enters the lab. Jemma is hunched over a microscope, and the familiarity brings warmth to her soul _'How I missed that dumb dumb'._

"Hey Jemma"

Simmons turns around and beams at her.

"Hey Skye! What can I do for you? You got tired of all that banging?". Simmons is smirking, and she has that cocked eyebrow that means she's awfully pleased with herself. She can only shake her head and pretend to be annoyed, but Jemma knows better. She knows what she's doing. She's easing her back into their usual banter, and she loves her for it. But on her side, she's unable to come up with a retort that would usually leave the older woman blushing. She has a _'You could have given me a hand with the banging'_ on the tip of her tongue but she can't bring herself to vocalize it.

"Jemma, when did you become the nuisance in this friendship?"

"When you apparently started acting like the annoyed cat, what's its name again, the one with the frowny face?"

"You mean Grumpy cat?"

"Yes! you really are the Grumpy Cat, Skye, which is weird because I always pegged you for a dog person".

"You are awful. We should have left you at HYDRA to make you learn about not sassing your friends". She knows Jemma knows she's just kidding.

"Now you're just being mean." Jemma fully turns around and takes off her coat, letting it lay in the stool she just vacated. She has a glint in her eye that Skye immediately labels as _fuckin dangerous_. She is trapped in her stare, and as Jemma stalks to the place she's rooted in, she can see that Simmons has her shoulders set, swagger in full effect. She needs to go. Now. But she can't move, victim to the Simmons transe.

As she gets closer, her eyes are drawn to her body, trying to not look at her face, at her impossibly plump lips, lips that she prims now more than she used to, as if she knew exactly what they did to her self-control. When her eyes skim dangeroulsy close to where her blouse clings at her chest, she lifts her eyes right back up, directly into Jemma's. She is a foot away from her, now, and suddenly she stops, tilting her head to the side, her science face on. She doesn't know what to expect but this scrutiny is uncomfortable at best, because despite her best intentions, she knows she's an open book when it comes to the lovely scientist.

"Why would you want me back at Hydra, Skye? Don't you like me being here with you guys..." She leaves her words hanging a little bit between the you and the guys, just a beat, and Skye has to wonder if it's intentional or not, or if she even realized she was doing it.

"I was kidding, babe, of course we want you here".

Jemma is not done, apparently, and she holds her breath when the tiny, _tiny_ thing crowds her personal space. Jemma seems intent on rendering her useless because she lifts her left hand, pushing back her hair, and in the same movement, she stands on her toes, whispering directly into her ear, lips slightly teasing her earlobe.

"Knock it off, Grumpy, and move your cute little ass or we'll be late for briefing"

And just like that, she's sauntering to the corridor, towards the briefing room. She wonders when exactly the scientist developped this ability to paralize her, because that's exactly how she's feeling. Paralyzed. She finally manages to get her bearing and follows suit.

"This Grumpy thing better not become permanent". She hates it already.

"Oh you mean, like the horrendous _Babe_ you bestowed on me? We'll see about that...Grumps. You do you, and I'll do me, it's what you americans say, am I right?"

To her, it seems like Jemma Simmons has no more chill. None.

Just after heading in to the direction of the briefing room, the words uttered by Bobbi come back to her, hitting her full force, knowking the wind out of her.

_'Amazing Tattoo?'_

She tries to get her head back in the game, namely Coulson's briefing, but she's afraid her brain is effectively shut down and swarming in lust. Because Jemma Simmons is breathtaking. But tattooed Jemma Simmons might be her ultimate fantasy if it turns out to be true.

* * *

There's a strange vibe colouring the room, and it's coming from Skye. After the little conversation in the Lab, they'd both taken off to the briefing room, joking along the way. Apparently, and that's a relief to her, Skye hadn't heard Bobbi talking about her tattoo. It's not that she doesn't want to talk about it, per say, it's more like she knows that the second she will divulge this piece of information to the younger woman, she will leap to her side and take off the shirt herself to see what the tatoo is all about and where exactly it is located on her body. As much as she loves it, and as much as she managed to keep it from the Team, save Fitz and the doctor in charge of their checkups, she knows she would be powerless to stop Skye from trying to see it and touch it and Jemma is absolutely certain she wouldn't be able to bear having Skye running her hands all over her back and hips. She wouldn't.

She was reckless earlier when she had let herself go and whispered in her ear about that preposterous nickname, because it took all of her self restraint to not bite at the enticing earlobe mere inches from her lips. She has her little self satisfactory moment to blame this on, because as much as the release did help refocus her thoughts, it also was ensnaring her senses because the fantasy was just so easy to conjure up. She didn't even have to try to have all these images of Skye burning up her body, because she was so bloody enthralled by her, already. She sighs.

But that's not what you do to your best friend, she thinks. She most certainly does not imagine them naked and writhing under her ministrations. she doesn't.

Well, she shouldn't.

She shakes herself off of her stupor to see that Skye is also definitely not paying attention to what is being said, and seems to be daydreaming about something that must be puzzling her, if the frown on her face is of any indication. Before she tries to get her attention, Fitz nudges the hacker discreetly with his elbow, eyes wide and head tilted towards Director Coulson. Skye jumps out of her skin, but now, at least, her eyes are refocusing on the room.

The briefing lasts for a couple of minutes longer, just enough to have Skye snapping at Bobbi over a mundane detail. That caught her attention along with the rest of the team, because Skye is not one to be rude without a valid reason, and Skye never snaps. She teases, she yells, but she doesn't snap.

She must have realized this herself because she apologized to Bobbi right away. But Jemma knows her. She figured out something was off when she was so stunted in their conversations earlier that day, but never imagined she would lash out on Bobbi who has been nothing but amazingly friendly and nice to all of them, despite being the obvious outsider.

Once they are dismissed, she makes her way to Skye to have a talk, only to find her already being lead outside by Fitz, who was grabbing her elbow and was looking murderous.

She'll try again after diner.

She wouldn't forgive herself if she allowed her friend to be so obviousy at discomfort over something.

* * *

"Skye can you I talk to you for a second, please?".

She's not even given a choice because one second later, Fitz is grabbing her elbow and leading her to his pod. They've had enough talks in there for her to know the way instinctively. She also knows that Fitz means business because he has that dark look in his eyes, eyebrows crunched together. Her little temper tantrum didn't go unnoticed, she gathered that, but she did apologize to Bobbi, and she doesn't get why Leopold is being so angry about.

Once the door is closed behind them, there's no explosion. Only a sad and tired sigh on Fitz' part.

"Skye, you've got to tone it down or do something about it".

"What are you on about?".

"Oh please, don't play coy. I'm done playing with you and I'm gonna bloody tell you how it is. I'm sick of you pining for Jemma and blaming Bobbi for it"

"Wh...". She's stunned.

"Don't interrupt me. I know you do. Pine. I mean, I may have lost quite a few neurones, but I have eyes, and we are close, you and I, yeah?"

"You know you mean the world to me Leopold"

"...and I feel the dancing around the issue is honestly exhausting and you are being mean to Bobbi for no reason. I mean, if anything, thank God for Bobbi for bringing Jemma back"

She visibly takes a step back

"Why are we talking about Jemma? I thought we were talking about Agent Morse"

"Oh God, you really are gonna make me say it?"

"Say what". She tries to play dumb, but it was only a matter of time.

"Oh bloody hell. Stop with the denial. You are jealous."

"Of what?"

"Of whom would be the more accurate question. You think I didn't see how you were shooting daggers at Bobbi whenever she was looking at Jemma? Or how cold you've been since she arrived when she's a really nice and awesome person. You are better than this and really, it's all empirical evidences. What I really don't get is why you are jealous. Bobbi is just being friendly, and you are at her throat for daring to engage with Jemma. Hell, you even told me she offered to be your sparring, so what gives. I know I tease you about your little crush on Jemma, but this is next level."

She should have known he'd figure it out. As much as she's an open book for Simmons, she's also an open book for Fiz, having spent all the months Jemma was absent in each other's presence, learning about each other.

This is her make or break moment, and she doesn't know if she's completely ready to verbalize and acknowledge what she knows she's feeling. Whoever said truth was liberating had clearly gotten something really wrong, as the next words out of her mouth don't bring any kind of comfort and only overflow her thoughts with anguish and sadness. She takes a deep breath, hangs her heads in defeat and in a broken whisper, finally lets it go.

"I'm in love with her, Leopold. Here's the truth you asked for... And I can't and won't do anything about it. Ever".


End file.
